


Goner, Gleamer, Outlandish Dreamer

by tjstar



Series: no one looks up anymore [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Clones, Contacts with aliens, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Sleepwalking, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers, UFOs, Violence, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 80,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler’s <em>past</em> life keeps chasing him, and his failed Mission literally shoves a gun into his hands again. Of course, he’s clever enough to fight back as hard as he can — yes, he’s having some troubles with visions and nightmares, but he can’t commit a murder.</p><p>This is not what he came for.<br/>----<br/>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6373738/chapters/14599171"> Some Poisoned Food For Thought</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This night wins the prize in a competition between the worst nights in Tyler’s life.

“Hey, what… Ty, what are you doing here? Tyler?!”

Josh’s panicky voice pulls Tyler out of his slumber. All the sounds are still muffled by drowsiness, and Tyler’s brain struggles to recognize his surroundings; reality seems to be a little foreign.

Tyler finally cracks his eyelids open and shivers from the cold night air brushing all over the bare skin on his arms and his legs. He’s almost awake, and he has to explain to Josh how he ended up standing in the middle of the park near the apartment building.

The grass tickles his feet as he takes a tiny step forward, but Josh instantly stops him, placing his warm palms on Tyler’s shoulders.

“You are… Gleaming,” Josh whispers dazedly.

Tyler blinks hard and looks down at himself — he sees the sparkling outlines of the rectangles and triangles on his chest even though his black t-shirt covers some of the light. The marks on his arms are emitting a golden-yellow glow, and Tyler feels feeble vibrations rushing through his trembling body. At first, he thinks that a sudden burst of Josh’s telekinesis causes that effect, but then Tyler realizes it’s coming from the solid ground they’re standing on. Tyler wishes he could just find a button and turn off the illumination his skin is creating. He’s freezing, his teeth are chattering, and he’s wearing nothing but his shirt and boxers — Tyler can already feel his blood turn to ice. 

Tyler is holding something in his palm, he glances at it — it is a key. He couldn’t just get out through the closed door, indeed.

“Hey?” Josh shakes him a little. Poor Josh is half-naked as well; Tyler can see the goosebumps on his forearms. “Let’s get back to bed?”

Tyler nods silently, leaning to Josh as they’re walking back to the apartment building; Tyler’s heart is creeping up his throat, his mind is just filled up with anxiety and fear, and Josh keeps saying something about ‘I think I have to hide the keys for the night.’

“I’m sorry,” Tyler only croaks out when Josh leads him back into their apartment and closes the door, checking the lock like three times.

Tyler was probably sleepwalking _again_ , this doesn’t come as a surprise; he’s had those episodes before, but he’d never left the apartment in an unconscious state before, and honestly, it’s a good reason to throw a tantrum.

“Are you alright, Ty?”

“I’m fine,” Tyler responds a little too quickly.

Josh presses his mouth into a thin line, shoving Tyler into the bathroom and urging him to scrub the dirt and fallen leaves off his feet. Tyler does as he told, holding his shaking hands under the stream of water for a long time and trying to wash the mysterious light away. The yellow color is fading gradually, and Tyler traces his fingers over the black bracelets wrapped around his left bicep.

He thought that thing was over after being abducted by the spaceship in the forest a few months ago.

It’s the new round.

Tyler watches the water swirling in the sink, taking the dust and sweat into the drain, and the blackness of the patterns somehow settles down the hurricane in Tyler’s brain.

Guiding Tyler back to the bedroom, Josh keeps controlling Tyler’s every uncertain step, but he doesn’t say anything even though Tyler notices how nervous and impatient Josh is. Tyler mentally burns himself down for being such a troublemaker; really, he wishes he could take care of himself and stop acting like an autistic baby.

“I woke up, and you weren’t in the bed with me,” Josh says as Tyler lies back down and rests his head onto the pillow that smells like Josh’s perfume. “I thought you were in the bathroom or something… I checked it, but it was empty, and I got hella worried. And then I noticed that the door was open,” Josh’s voice comes out in waves as he tries to calm himself down. “I couldn’t find you at first, but then I saw the gleaming in the park, and… What happened?”

The last thing Tyler remembers is falling asleep with his head on Josh’s shoulder, that’s all.

“I d-don’t know,” Tyler mutters, reaching his hand out and patting Josh’s purple curls.

Josh always picks the new color for his hair when something in his life changes.

“Tyler,” Josh begins to speak again. “Did you see something?”

“No,” Tyler huffs out.

“You were staring at the sky.”

“But my eyes were closed.”

“So you understand how creepy was it?”

Tyler wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“Yeah. Probably.” 

He’s about to fall asleep again, but he doesn’t want to be a victim of these weird tricks. He still can’t figure out how he managed to make it out of the apartment without being noticed. He’s terrified and embarrassed, and if the agents of VESSEL will break the door of their apartment right now, it will be Tyler’s fault.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Tyler swallows nervously; their neighbors might’ve seen him, his gleaming and his _powers_.

“You scared me,” Josh exhales, nestling next to Tyler and wrapping his arm around Tyler’s torso. “Was it like… a call from Space?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler repeats.

The aliens use him like a barometer, and that invisible pointer in his head indicates that the storm is coming. All the vibrations localize in Tyler’s brain, making it buzz and toss inside his skull.

Josh’s lips are pressed to Tyler’s jaw, making him let out a tiny giggle even though he doesn’t feel like laughing.

“But we can deal with everything, can’t we?” Josh breathes out into Tyler’s ear. “I’m sure I’ll be able to catch you next time. Don’t want to print your photos on the cartons of milk.”

“I hope I’ll wake up before getting up from the bed.”

Tyler throws a quick glance at the digital watch on the bedside table — it’s 12:43AM.

He rolls over to face Josh and throws his leg over Josh’s waist to anchor himself for the rest of the night.

 

***

_His head feels strangely empty; the darkness gets replaced by the bright explosion, and the light begins to fill up the void. Tyler isn’t sure if he’s still sleeping, and his eyelids are too thin to block the white rays, hitting at his face; he wants to scream or move, but he’s strapped, he’s trapped, and he can only hear a shrill and rasping sound shooting through his eardrums, and the voice inside his head says-_

_‘Here’s your Mission.’_

Tyler jolts awake covered in sweat; a small trickle runs down his collarbone, making his damp t-shirt stick to his chest, and Tyler is drowning in the ocean of panic. He squirms, but Josh only squeezes him harder; Tyler throws his head back, gasping for breath.

He only takes one spasmodic gulp of air before Josh starts to stir beside him.  

“Tyler?” he grumbles sleepily. “Again?!”

“I’m awake,” Tyler wheezes out. “Just need to use the bathroom.”

Josh releases Tyler from his hug in a rush.

“Oh. Of course.” 

Tyler is pretty sure Josh sees him sway as he gets up and crosses the room, hoping his legs won’t give up underneath him.

He makes it all the way to the bathroom quite successfully; Tyler fills up the sink with the cold water and plunges his face into it. He holds his breath, feeling the water sneak into his nostrils, but Tyler doesn’t let it flood his head and body; he emerges from this handmade pool as soon as his swelling lungs start begging for oxygen. Tyler looks at the mirror on the door of a cabinet above the sink and thinks he stares at a wax copy of himself: a fever paints his cheeks with an unhealthy blush, the rest of skin on his face looks sickly green, his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy due to the lack of sleep.

“I’m not crazy,” Tyler whispers to his reflection.

Tyler’s reflection responds with a nasty crooked grin.

 

***

He wakes up to some rather unsettling noises and a weird pressure on both of his wrists; Tyler’s eyes are still screwed shut, and he can’t still figure out what happened to the bedroom and his sleeping position.

“T…er,” somebody tries to say his name, but it’s so very far from a coherent speech. “T…ler. St…p.”

The something-is-very-wrong sensation hits Tyler with full force, and he lets the reality slowly seep back into his mind. When he realizes what he’s doing, he nearly swoons. He finds himself sitting on Josh’s thighs and squeezing his throat with both of his hands; Josh grips at Tyler’s forearms, scratching them with his short fingernails, but Tyler’s thumbs keep pressing at Josh’s Adam’s apple as if he’s trying to make Josh gulp down a chunk of his own trachea. It’s pitch dark in the room, Tyler doesn’t see Josh’s face; Josh just wriggles underneath him; Tyler _wants_ to remove his hands from Josh’s neck to let him inhale, but something just makes him keep strangling his already semiconscious boyfriend.

“Ty, n-no,” Josh chokes out, kicking the bedsheets.

Tyler’s imagination hands him a picture of Josh’s rolled eyes and blue lips, and his swollen tongue, and…

“Oh God,” Tyler suddenly feels like the mist is dissipating, and he can control his body again. He unclenches his hands, still slick with Josh’s and his own sweat. “J-josh?”

He’s afraid he won’t get any answer.

Josh’s bare chest raises and falls, his hands rub his tensed throat as he begins to cough violently. Tyler crawls away from him, standing on his knees on the mattress when Josh turns onto his side, almost swinging his head over the side of the bed, panting and wheezing like an asthmatic. It’s not just a nightmare, it’s a fucking scene from a horror movie. Tyler’s heart is hammering in his ribcage, and he can’t even find courage to turn the ceiling lights on.

“This was…” Josh finally stops coughing his lungs up, but his voice is scratchy and raw. “Why?” is all he asks before rolling onto his stomach and hiding his face in the pillow.

“I don’t… I d-didn’t mean, Josh, oh God,” through the ringing in his ears Tyler doesn’t even hear the flow of babbling spilling out of his mouth. “I thought it was just a dream, and…”

He tried to kill Josh.

Tyler’s sick mind is just an endless chain of traps and well-hidden bombs, and Tyler doesn’t miss a chance to get caught. This is probably the beginning of the Mission he tried to deny; he can’t hide from the duty to kill all the Contactees even though he hasn’t realized it yet. But some signs start to surface.

“I’ll bring you some water,” Tyler decides, scrambling off the bed and going to the kitchen. He definitely spills some water on the table in the dark, but he doesn’t think it makes any sense right now.

This night wins the prize in a competition between the worst nights in Tyler’s life.

When he gets back into the bedroom, he sees Josh’s silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands.

“Josh?”

Tyler sets the water onto the bedside table. Then he turns on a small reading lamp only to check the damage he caused to a person he loves the most.

Josh’s usually pale neck is all purple and blue now, there are round and still red fingerprints, and when Tyler touches Josh’s shoulder it sends a million of tiny electric discharges through Tyler’s veins. He thinks it can even make his marks glow again.

“I’m sorry, Josh.”

Josh turns away from him, grabbing the glass and carefully taking a sip of water.

“Tell me it was just a dream,” Josh finally utters, blinking at the light. “I didn’t expect that though.”

Tyler glances at the digital watch again. 3:57AM. Tyler is sure that Josh isn’t interested in sleeping with him anymore.

“You could throw me across the room,” Tyler rubs his palms nervously.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Josh plasters a fake smile on his face. Then, his lips twitch a little, and the corners of his mouth curl downwards.

“I can sleep on a couch next time,” Tyler offers. “If you are… You know… If you’re not okay with… That.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Josh…”

“Stop it,” Josh gets up from the bed and reaches for his clothes hanging from the chair. “It was just a nightmare.”

“I’ve almost choked you.”

“I’m aware,” Josh nearly chuckles.

Josh is so pure and innocent.

“I have to apologize,” Tyler whines. “Let me… Let me heal it?”

“Well,” Josh freezes, standing in front of Tyler with his jeans in his hand. “Doesn’t it look like a hickey?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

It’s just an ugly and shapeless mess.

Josh thinks for a minute, pressing his fingertips to his injured throat and furrowing his eyebrows.

“It will hurt you,” he says.

“It’s not that serious,” Tyler replies. “Come on, Josh, we can’t wait until it heals by itself.”

Josh doesn’t look enthusiastic about that.

“It won’t hurt me _that_ bad. I promise.”

He has to find something positive in getting his powers back. Even though Jenna and VESSEL wouldn’t be proud of it.

“Fine,” Josh sits back down onto the bed and throws his head back, exposing his neck for Tyler.

Tyler rubs his palms to warm them up before closing his eyes and focusing on the activation of his internal reserves. Josh swallows the saliva, and Tyler’s fingertips catch the light bobbing of his Adam’s apple again; Tyler banishes the most disturbing memories and tries his best to hold the warmth that starts to soak through his skin.

_Deep breaths._

Tyler feels Josh’s pulse on his carotid artery, he is waiting patiently, and it’s time to take his pain away.

Tyler opens his mouth as a thick invisible noose ties around his throat and squeezes it much harder than he expected; he almost takes his hands off Josh’s neck and gasps, gulping down the vacuum and diving into some kind of a surrealistic black hole. The pressure pushes his heart up his throat, but the noose doesn’t let it jump out of Tyler’s body. Josh had felt that a while ago, and now Tyler involuntarily re-calls for the nightmare, playing the main role.

He’s a victim, not a villain.

Tyler counts to ten; then, he allows himself to steal one tiny breath not to pass out and then counts to ten again. The skin on Josh’s neck grows hotter, he swallows again when Tyler is already on the final phase of the healing. He presses his fingers to fading bruises, getting a small grunt from Josh, and then a sudden gust of air floods Tyler’s lungs, indicating the end of the operation.

This one was pretty easy to cure.

Tyler smirks a little, inspecting Josh’s neck closely and getting satisfied by the sight of a healthily pink skin without any foreign stains and spots. Josh is a little freckly, but that’s okay.

“What did you feel?” Tyler asks carefully when Josh shakes his head and touches his unharmed throat.

“Uh, almost nothing. Just some warmth,” he shrugs before meeting Tyler’s gaze. “You?”

“I’m alright,” Tyler says cagily. “It was my fault anyway. At least now you d-don’t have those terrible bruises.”

“I didn’t even see them,” Josh frowns.

“Better for you.”

Tyler’s inner self is so fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well.  
> i know what i'm waiting from this work so i have to show you something


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t know you were pregnant,” Josh utters musingly. “Like… six years ago.”
> 
> “Oh. This is Amelia, a daughter of one of our agents,” Jenna replies hastily. 
> 
> Josh begins to speak again, suddenly shuddering as the thunderpeal shakes the building.
> 
> “And our lovely Amelia…”
> 
> “She can control the weather.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> josh and tyler babysit (kind of) a little girl

Surprisingly, Josh doesn’t break up with him, no, Josh doesn’t even try to save the distance between him and Tyler — he keeps being gentle, which only increases Tyler’s sudden dismay.

A week passes, and nothing extraordinary happens.

Though, Tyler thinks he’s getting stuck between the two layers of his life like a piece of ham pressed between the slices of bread. His dreams are heavy and abstract, they mostly consist of a bright light and unrecognizable sounds. Tyler runs, trying to catch the tail of his elusive memories, but they only mock him, and Tyler ends up getting kicked out of his fitful sleep.

He still shares a bed with Josh, and Josh pretends he isn’t scared even though Tyler can tell he is. Well, Tyler can’t blame him.

They keep on doing their job, the routine sucks them in (morning kisses — breakfast — work — quite awkward evenings; there’s the energy coming from Josh’s body as he tries not to explode with a bunch of questions). The life goes on.

They’re walking down the street, holding hands, and Tyler wonders how they still manage to play their roles. The stars look quite unfriendly, and Josh keeps yanking up Tyler’s sleeve to let the glitters of the starlight sneak underneath his skin. But Tyler’s patterns aren’t shining anymore, so maybe that fateful night was just a false alarm. But theoretically, Tyler is still on the run; his Creators can catch him again, anytime and anywhere, and he wants to warn Josh, wants to apologize non-stop.

Tyler just can’t get used to this new life, he always tries to take a minute and mentally get back to his previous life, to his experiments and investigations, and he can say he misses it  _a lot,_ but now he has Josh.

“Are you afraid of me?” Tyler asks, promptly getting distracted by the stars gleaming in Josh’s eyes.

Oh God, he doesn’t want to lose this.

“Nope,” Josh stretches his lips into a wide smile. “I mean, you’re full of secrets, but I don’t think it’s bad. You’re making my life less boring.”

Josh pulls him closer and kisses him afterwards, strong hands running over Tyler’s shoulders, and every Josh’s move screams  _‘Tyler is mine, mine, mine’_ , and Tyler doesn’t deny that.

Tyler doesn’t struggle.

He only shrugs and kisses Josh back.

 

*** 

All Tyler has learned is that sometimes one insignificant event can change literally everything. It’s exactly what happens when somebody starts knocking at the door, ruining Tyler’s dreams of spending a rainy Sunday with Josh and a bowl of Doritos. Tyler’s Fortune is a bitch.

Josh’s facial expression is a pure confusion, and Tyler is almost certain he knows what Josh is thinking about, because their thoughts are usually matching.

A danger.

“I’m coming,” Tyler sighs, lowering the volume of TV.

Josh plods after him; Josh’s breathing tickles Tyler’s neck when he heads to the door.

“Who’s there?” they ask in perfect unison.

“It’s me. Jenna,” is all what they get in response.

Tyler suddenly thinks he’s going to get a dart with a tranquilizer or some shit in his neck as soon as he opens the door. He’s hiding a secret and feeling guilty about that; Tyler isn’t interested in betraying Josh.

Well, Jenna is  _still_  his friend. Their friend.

Josh elbows Tyler’s ribs slightly.

“Dude, she’s waiting.” 

Tyler swallows automatically though his mouth is dry and braces himself for whatever Jenna is going to do. He opens the door and realizes that the reason of Jenna’s unforeseen visit is not the reason he was thinking about.

“Hi,” Jenna smiles at him tiredly.

“Hi,” Tyler waves his hand in greeting. “And. Hi,” he says once again, looking down at Jenna’s new friend.

It’s a little girl, she’s no older than six, with a dark braided hair and a stuffed plush bunny she’s hugging to her chest; she looks at Tyler in disbelief then taking a step backwards and hiding behind Jenna’s back. Jenna holds a big blue umbrella in her hand, shaking it vigorously, some drops of water spray all over Tyler’s clothes.

Tyler spins around, searching for any support from Josh.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant,” Josh utters musingly. “Like… six years ago.”

This sounds so vulgar that Tyler wants to slap him. This innocent child probably doesn’t even know where the babies come from.

“Oh. This is Amelia, a daughter of one of our agents,” Jenna replies hastily. “She’s five, actually. Amelia, this is Tyler.”

Tyler nods. Amelia copies his gesture.

“This is Josh,” he points his finger at his garrulous boyfriend.

Jenna grips at her umbrella harder as if she intends to use it like a sword.

Josh begins to speak again, suddenly shuddering as the thunderpeal shakes the building.

“And our lovely Amelia…” 

“She can control the weather.”

Tyler pretends this doesn’t surprise him. Really, this doesn’t make his heart sink. He’s just waiting for the lightning that will strike him down and turn him into a handful of ashes.

“Well. She likes the rain, I guess,” Josh assumes. He tugs at the hair on the top of his head, tousling it, and it somehow distracts Tyler from his heavy thoughts.

“I don’t like the rain,” a baby’s quiet voice cuts Josh off. “I’m just sad. My Daddy isn’t waking up,” she sniffs.

Jenna opens her mouth to say something, but Josh is already crouched down at Amelia’s level, patting her head and wiping the tears off her face with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Hey, princess, don’t cry,” he blesses her with the brightest Dun-style smile. “I’m sure your Dad is gonna be okay.”

 _‘Don’t promise her anything’_ Tyler has to bite a tip of his tongue not to say that out loud.

They don’t know a thing about this situation.

But Amelia giggles as Josh presses his forefinger to her nose jokingly.

“I like this picture,” she compliments, poking at the colorful tattoo on Josh’s arm. He’s working on finishing it, but his arm still has a few bare spots. “Why don’t you color your pictures?” Amelia blinks at the cross-like sign on Tyler’s shoulder.

“Please, don’t think she’s annoying,” Jenna starts but Tyler shakes his head.

“I just like this color,” he responds; Amelia is curious, but she doesn’t say anything.

Jenna lays the umbrella on the floor, the water is already gathering into a puddle.

“We were on our way back from the hospital,” she places her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “And I just wanted to check you out.”

“What happened?” Tyler asks dryly.

“That’s something that I can’t explain,” Jenna sighs, playing nervously with the strand of her blonde hair.

“My Daddy is sleeping,” Amelia repeats stubbornly. “And it is very, very sad,” she gazes somewhere at Josh’s chest, definitely going to cry again.

“Amelia,” Jenna says softly, and the girl raises her head up to look into Jenna’s eyes. “We need to go, we don’t want to bother the boys, do we?”

“You’re not bothering us,” Josh shrugs carelessly.

Amelia perks up.

“I want to stay then. I don’t want to go to the archive  _again_ , Jenna, it’s boring,” she whines.

Tyler doesn’t know what archive Amelia is talking about, but he’s positive she’s right. Archives are hella boring.

“Really, Jen, she can stay and take some rest,” Tyler agrees. “You just can pick her up later.”

“I don’t want to put you into this.”

“You came to us with a baby, come on,” Tyler smirks. “We can take care of her.”

Tyler can’t deny that he’s agreed to watch after Amelia only because he craves to learn something about her abilities. The girl probably thinks it’s just a game, but Tyler knows Jenna way too good; if she says the girl has powers — it means the girl has powers.

“I believe you,” Jenna says. “I was going to visit a local library for, you know, for work. I’m kind of babysitting Amelia while her father is in the hospital. We’re trying to contact her mother, so…”

Amelia frowns, looking at them through her long brown eyelashes, and Tyler can tell the rain starts pouring even harder, heavy drops splatter against the rooftop.

They all are going to drown.

“So, princess, take your bunny and let’s go to the room?” Josh offers, reaching his hand to Amelia. She nods and takes it, she  _clings_  to it with her small palms and fingers, searching for protection. “I’ll show you your new kingdom,” Josh slightly pushes the girl towards the living room.

This conversation is not for her ears.

“Nice girl,” Tyler interjects.

Jenna tries to look over Tyler’s shoulder to see what’s going on in a living room.

“Yeah… I’ve been watching her this week.” 

“At VESSEL?”

“No, her father has an apartment a few blocks away from here,” Jenna breathes out. “He’s in a coma. You know, we didn’t expect our equipment could fail, and that poor guy ended up with a punctured lung and a head injury, and Amelia… She didn’t want to talk to anyone except me, so here we are.”

“How did she get her powers though?”

If Amelia is a little Contactee it threatens Tyler to get a new mark somewhere on his body.

“She was born with it. We’re still trying to figure it out.”

“Why don’t you just block her?” he asks almost scornfully even though he didn’t mean that.

Tyler expects it to confuse Jenna, he just wants to use the words as the weapons they are, but Jenna looks straight into his eyes, seeming to be unflappable. She probably has some well-concealed superpowers as well, because Tyler always tries to stare at the ground when Jenna performs this trick.

So, she wins again. Tyler looks down at his socks.

Jenna reaches for her umbrella.

“Don’t hate me.” 

“I don’t.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Jenna says. “Why do I still need to educate myself? I am so cool already. I’m working for a super secret corporation and still have to take books from the library. It’s not fair.”

“I dunno. Maybe you should be cooler,” Tyler shrugs.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” Jenna eyes him concernedly, and that only makes Tyler bite the inside of his cheek.

“We’re much better now.”

“Did you take those pills?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t even open the bottle. Lying is easy.

When Jenna goes out of the door, Tyler only leans his back against the wall, sliding down slowly until his ass hits the parquet. The girl is laughing happily in the living room and Josh is echoing her laughter; Tyler is envious of Josh’s wonderful ability of making friends. When Tyler feels well enough to come back to Josh and Amelia, he looks at the window and notices the rays of sunshine and a clear blue sky. Though, then Tyler notices that Amelia’s rabbit is soaring a few feet above the floor. Amelia is jumping, trying to catch the toy and chuckling when Josh doesn’t let her do that. Josh is still sitting on the couch; he only waves his hand like a puppet master, making the plush rabbit dance in the air.

If Amelia will tell Jenna about this show, they are going to have a lot of troubles.

“Josh,” Tyler groans.

Josh snaps his fingers, and the toy falls right into Amelia’s arms.

“Hey, Mr. Roger likes to fly!” she resents.

“Mr. Roger wants to sleep,” Tyler responds, getting a nasty glare from the girl.

“You’re grumpy,” Amelia wrinkles her nose.

“No, I am not,” Tyler pouts.

Amelia rushes to the couch and jumps up onto Josh’s lap; Josh only smiles as the girl presses her face to his neck and hugs Amelia tightly.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Tyler points out.

“What are you talking about?”

“You understand.”

Josh can out all of their secrets. But this girl is probably one of them, so maybe she’ll keep silent.

“Just wanted her to stop crying,” Josh replies, stroking Amelia’s hair.

Tyler smiles bitterly.

“Nice. Now it’s my turn to cry.” 

“No,” Josh reaches his free hand and pats Tyler’s knee. “Mr. Roger will cheer you up.”

“I want to play something,” Amelia suddenly says, swinging her legs and  _accidentally_  kicking Tyler’s thigh.

“Any ideas?” Tyler inquires cautiously.

Amelia’s answer makes him quiver.

“I wanna be a hairdresser.”

 

***

 _‘At least she didn’t shave my head’_  Tyler thinks, checking his brand new hairstyle in a hand mirror. Josh only laughs at him because Tyler’s brown hair is now just a cluster of  _pink_  hairpins and tiny scrunchies. He tries to take some of them off to look less stupid, but Amelia gazes at his hair adoringly, so Tyler decides not to disappoint her. Josh doesn’t mind having a little flower crown on his head, white and red plastic roses look good for his purple curls; it seems like he enjoys that style too, he even tries not to shake his head not to drop it.

“I like it,” Amelia beams, and this somehow makes Tyler’s heart flutter. “My Daddy liked…  _likes_  to play with me, but he’s sleeping, so I don’t have any friends. Jenna is my friend, but I don’t think my Mommy will let her stay with me.”

_Danger._

Amelia sniffles again, and Josh is the one to take the hit.

“Do you have more hairpins? I think Tyler wants to make his hair more beautiful.”

No, Tyler doesn’t want that. But this girl’s life is unbearably tough, so he can pretend that he does.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

Amelia takes her bright-red bag and dumps the contents onto the couch; the bag is quite small, but the hairpins and other stuff fall out of it like a multicolored waterfall.

“I like to play with you,” Amelia confesses, tugging at Tyler’s hair and ripping off some scrunchies clumsily.

“Alright, let’s play.”

Tyler’s conscience is killing him, chewing and swallowing him alive;  _‘you know you can help’_  his inner voice remarks.

Just a couple of touches, a blast of energy, and Amelia’s Dad will probably be fine. Tyler can’t wipe this thought off his brain, and it makes him feel sick. Josh didn’t think twice before showing his powers only to take the girl’s sadness away, and Tyler can definitely give her more than just one puppet-trick. He can visit her father, he’s pretty sure he can heal his injuries, but he’s terrified. Tyler was only working with single injuries like broken bones or gunshot wounds; he has never healed several different injuries in one go; it might be dangerous for him. He’s probably going to pass out for a long time after the operation.

“I like Star Wars!” Amelia exclaims when Josh starts flipping the channels.

Tyler’s heart starts to bleed in his chest.

He ponders of probable risks, he wants to convince himself he doesn’t have to play a Good Samaritan all the time, and he deserves to just live this life with Josh without dragging the weight of the other’s problems.

Tyler knows he is egoistic and selfish. That’s probably why he is still alive.

But this girl can somehow connect her mood swings to the weather, to the atmosphere, and this is one of those  _illegal_  things; Amelia is lucky that her father is the VESSEL agent — it probably saves her from the block or deactivation.

“I wanna be Princess Leia,” Amelia says and tries to stick her pinky through the gauge in Josh’s earlobe.

“You are Princess Amelia,” he responds with a light chuckle.

Josh’s eyes are horribly sad.

Tyler has to do something to fix everything.

 

***

When Jenna comes to take Amelia to the hospital  _again_ , Tyler feels like he has no lungs, and his tongue turns into a withered leaf.

“Gonna meet Daddy?” Amelia asks, brightening up. “Is he going to wake up today?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Jenna’s voice cracks almost unnoticeably.

Josh helps Amelia shove her hairdresser’s supplies back into her bag, and Tyler still can’t straighten up his ruffled hair.

“And then we’ll call my Mom?”

“Of course. Let’s go,” Jenna takes the girl’s hand. “I’ll buy you some ice-cream on the way back home.”  

“Bye, princess,” Josh bends down to hug Amelia; she wraps her arms around his neck.

This is too much.

“My powers are b-back,” Tyler blurts out, screwing his eyes shut and wishing it could make him invisible.

“What…”

There’s only one loud gasp sliding off Jenna’s lips; Tyler opens his eyes again, his vision is fuzzy with nervousness.

“My. Powers. Are. Back,” he repeats, accenting every word. “I can help.”

“Nice one, Tyler,” Josh sighs. “So. I guess we’re packing our things and going to the lab?”

“Stop… what… Josh?”

“Yeah,” Josh says. “Me too.”

“Tyler can help?” Amelia catches the most important part of the conversation. “Is Tyler a doctor?”

Tyler nods.

“Something like that.” 

“You know you shouldn’t do that,” Jenna says without any confidence.

“But Ty said he can wake my Daddy up!” Amelia cries out.

The thunder starts to rumble again.

“I’m pretty sure,” Tyler assures.

It’s not that he’s craving to help VESSEL’s agents, no, this cute girl just deserves a better life. Tyler has already drawn some conclusions about Amelia’s mother.

“Fine,” Jenna caves.

“I’m gonna do that f-for a girl,” Tyler stutters out.

“I get it.”

Tyler tries his best to get dressed before Jenna will get a chance to change her decision; he runs downstairs after her and Amelia, only turning around to hurry Josh up as he rushes to Josh’s car. There are only two of them, Jenna pulls her car out of the parking lot, and Tyler only manages to catch a light whisper from Amelia:  _today is the best day ever_.

Tyler is incredibly surprised by Jenna’s kindness, and also incredibly anxious on the brink of getting carsick.

“It’s gonna hurt you,” Josh mumbles as he starts the engine.

“I know.”

But Josh doesn’t even try to persuade him to change his intentions.

Tyler fails at keeping silent on the way to hospital, humming a song under his breath when Josh turns the radio on. Tyler mentally curses the traffic; the adrenaline keeps pumping through his veins, and Tyler can’t just wait — his boldness is not immortal.

“Tyler,” Josh starts to speak hesitantly. “Have you ever thought about… like, about kids?”

This question works like a slap across Tyler’s face.

“No, I’m like…  _We’re_  t-too young?” he croaks out.

He sounds pathetic, but he doesn’t feel like talking about this right now.

He’s a bit busy.

“Alrighty. No kids,” Josh says meekly.

 

***

The time stretches like a rubber, and Tyler isn’t so self-confident anymore. He keeps watching the houses and bridges behind the window, and he’s thinking, thinking, thinking until his brain loses itself in the chaos of sparkles and shadows. When they arrive though, the time shrinks; the nurse gives them an angry look, and Jenna introduces Tyler and Josh like ‘Paul’s good friends’.

“I wanna see Daddy,” Amelia whimpers as they reach the door of his hospital ward.

“You have to wait here, with Josh,” Jenna says calmly.

Tyler realizes how much he needs Josh to be in the hospital ward with him.

“Be careful,” Josh only mutters. He is almost as white as the wall behind him.

Tyler responds with a half-smile and enters the ward.

_Calm down._

When he sees what he’s going to work with, his knees almost buckle.

 _Paul_ is not even breathing on his own, he’s just like a mannequin connected to a heart monitor and a lot of different equipment; his head is covered with a thick layer of bandages, and his arms are black-blue-purple from all the IVs.

“He’s one of our techs,” Jenna explains, startling Tyler with her surprisingly loud voice. “We had to transport him here by a helicopter.”

“You could’ve just used your m-magical serums and shit,” Tyler jerks his head at the beeping of a heart monitor. It reminds him of his lab he had a while ago.

“That’s why he’s still alive,” Jenna says firmly. “We helped him as best as we could, but there are some things we can’t deal with.”

Tyler rubs his sweaty palms, feeling the tingle in his fingertips.

It’s gonna hurt him pretty bad.

“Well. Let’s start,” Tyler exhales as he presses his palms to Paul’s chest.

The fabric of his hospital gown is scratchy as Tyler grips at it, slowly releasing his powers. He breathes out through his nose as his hands turn to a pure energy shooting down trough Paul’s body. Tyler braces himself for an inevitable bout of pain, he bites down his lip and hisses as it finally strikes him; it is equal to getting a tree branch getting stuck in Tyler’s right lung, and it twitches, scratches his soft flesh, and Tyler isn’t sure if it’s the saliva floods his mouth or the blood. His knees slam against the cold floor; the ache in Tyler’s kneecaps somehow clears his mind. He crawls closer to the hospital bed, nearly dropping his head on the edge of the mattress; Tyler blindly reaches for Paul’s neck, slightly cupping his jaw and then running his numb fingers to Paul’s bandaged forehead. Tyler’s eyelids tic as he closes his eyes, his hands feel like he plunged them into hot and bubbling lava.

“Tyler,” he hears Jenna’s voice. “Stop.”

Tyler shakes his head, gripping onto the thought of Amelia, of her childishly-wide smile, and he has to do something, he  _must_  save her father. Amelia is probably still too small and weak to cause a storm or the tornado, and there’s a good chance she can teach herself to control her powers before the paparazzi will chase her with their cameras.

Tyler moans when an invisible crowbar hits his temple. His brain jerks sideways, and Tyler is thankful that his stomach is empty.

“G-god,” Tyler whispers, his legs trembling violently as he takes more of Paul’s pain. “Help me.”

He feels a light movement on the bed, a hand touches his wrist, but Tyler can’t see anything through the red veil and terrible pain in his head, ribs and guts. He can’t tell if he’s crying, his face is all wet, and his chest is heaving from unreleased sobs.

Tyler can barely recognize a quiet groan escaping Paul’s lips.

Tyler slides down the side of the bed, the back of his head smacks against the floor, the weakness pins him down.

Jenna’s heels clatter towards Tyler.

“Tyler? Tyler, can you hear me?” Jenna hunches over him, slightly slapping his cheek.

Tyler blinks at her, huffing when her hair starts to tickle his face. Then, he wipes his face with the back of his hand and just sighs as he sees a crimson smear down his forearm. The blood already hits the back of his throat, and Tyler scrambles to sit up not to be sick right then and there.

Josh’s gunshot wound was just a scratch compared to this.

The nurse breaks into the ward, screaming and alarming, and then there are the doctors, and Tyler feels himself being manhandled out of the room.

Jenna helps him sit down onto a plastic chair, and a nurse hands him a paper towel for his nose, offering him to go to the office and get some help. Tyler refuses though, his body aches all over as Josh hugs him; he needs some time to cure himself from  _Paul’s_  injuries, he needs to recollect his  _energy_.

“Tyler, oh man, you’re bleeding, that crap hurt you pretty bad, I guess,” Josh is just babbling, so Tyler doesn’t even bother himself with responding him. “You’re so brave, dude, like the bravest guy I’ve ever known!”

Tyler is going to talk to him at home.

“What happened?” Amelia asks, pulling a paper towel away from Tyler’s face. “Did you fall?”

Tyler gives her a weak nod.

“Your Dad is awake,” he informs her wearily.

“Really?!” she exclaims, jumping off the chair; the soles of her sandals hit the tiled floor. Too many sounds.

Tyler closes his eyes and slumps onto Josh’s chest; then, Jenna touches at his eyelid, making him open one eye.

“What?” Tyler grumbles.

“Don’t pass out,” she orders.

“I’m tired,” Tyler whines, wiping leftover blood. “I want to sleep. Josh, drive me home, please.”

He’s so exhausted that he can’t even understand if he’s proud of himself.

“Let’s get you into the car,” Josh holds Tyler’s upper arm as he helps him get back onto his feet.

Tyler hopes Jenna is too busy at the moment to be a strict VESSEL agent.

Jenna doesn’t even try to stop them as they go down the hallway.

 

***

Josh keeps poking and bothering him all the way back home, constantly offering him a bottle of water or a tissue or a paper bag, but Tyler only shakes his head, keeping his mouth sealed just in case.

He starts feeling a little better when Josh maneuvers him upstairs and into the apartment. Tyler changes his filthy shirt and wants to go to sleep immediately, but Josh forces him to eat a whole bowl of cereal to get some of his strength back. Tyler is not hungry, he chokes on milk, but he shoves the cereal down his throat anyway — he doesn’t want Josh to scold him for his eating habits.

When Tyler is already in the bed, Jenna calls him and reports the good news — Paul is doing just fine, he’s gonna get discharged in a few days; Jenna also mentions that she contacted Amelia’s mother, and Amelia is just the happiest human being on Earth.

Tyler lets out a loud sigh of relief before drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yeah, paul and amelia are paul and amelia meany


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not paying the rent,” Jack explains. “So I think you should leave right the fuck now.”
> 
> Tyler fights the urge to flip him off.

Tyler wishes he could get rid of the stones rattling in his stomach. He’s lying on the bathroom floor, his body quivers as the nausea swing sucker-punches him again; he’s thirsty, but he can’t get up and make it to the sink to rinse the taste out of his mouth and settle down his stinging throat.

When Tyler woke up in the middle of the night and bolted to the bathroom, Josh didn’t even notice that despite all his promises to control Tyler’s sleepwalking.

 _Josh is tired,_ Tyler thinks, hiccupping quietly.

He suspects he’s going to be sick again. Stupid cereal.

Tyler reaches for the towel hanging from the doorknob, tugging it down until it falls all over his face, white fluffy material almost smothers him. Tyler lets out a small pained grunt and shoves his hand underneath the hem of his hoodie to rub his bare tummy.

Tyler just can’t do anything without any consequences, he has to pay for having these abilities; he’d just saved a man’s life, _a family_ , but he still had those hopes that the side-effect wasn’t going to crash down all over him.

Well, Tyler made a mistake. He doesn’t regret that though.

He’s probably going to be fine far by the day, but at the moment Tyler feels like he’s riding a roller-coaster; he whimpers quietly, pressing his sweaty palm down his lower stomach and praying for Josh to wake up and help him. _Save him._

Josh’s presence always makes Tyler feel better.

He wonders why Josh has agreed to live with a guy who’s frequently fainting, bleeding or puking; Josh will probably grow tired of all this shit really soon.

A single lightbulb on the ceiling keeps poking Tyler in the eyes, the towel on his face can’t block it; Tyler sighs and carefully rolls onto his side, pulling his knees to his chest. He is quite disoriented, and his forehead bumps against the side of a toilet, which nearly makes him cry.

He needs Josh to tell him everything is going to be alright.

 _But_ _Josh is tired,_ Tyler repeats mentally.

Tyler is grateful that it’s not his shift in the auto-repair service today; but Josh has to go to work anyway, and Tyler is not pleased by the thought that he’s going to stay home alone until the evening.

Tyler decides he’ll be just lying here until it passes, because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself and throw up in the bedroom. His stomach rolls again, and Tyler tries to prop himself up with his elbow but fails, his shoulder blades just hit the floor again; Tyler swallows stomach acid back down and licks a bitter flavor off his lips.

He definitely can bear it. At least, Amelia and her father are happy now.

Tyler curls farther into himself and insensibly falls asleep like this; he only wakes up to the sound of the toilet being flushed. Tyler lets out a slight groan, realizing how gross this whole situation is — all his life he’s trying to get out of the mud, he’s trying his best, but ends up face down in his own vomit anyway.

Well, at least this time he managed to get all of it into the bowl.

“Oh man.”

Tyler’s pounding head is still covered with the towel; his fingers grip onto it when Josh pulls the towel away from him, leaving Tyler defenseless without the only shield he had.

Josh’s hair sticks weirdly in different angles, and this almost makes Tyler smirk; Josh is shirtless but with his ripped jeans on, and even though Tyler’s guts keep tying themselves in knots, he can still admit he’s got the hottest boyfriend ever.  

“Morning?” Tyler half-asks half-claims.

Josh kneels beside him, running his fingers through Tyler’s damp hair.

“It’s like seven-thirty,” Josh replies confusedly. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Tyler frowns and tries to remember. Josh is a heavy sleeper.

“You weren’t reacting. And I needed to throw up,” Tyler shrugs, hiccuping a little.  

“I’m sorry,” Josh’s hand traces to Tyler’s stomach. “I can call my boss to try and take a sick day.”

“No, don’t do that,” Tyler responds quickly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Tyler feels almost fine when he doesn’t make any attempts to stir.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Tyler exhales. “Do you, um, need t-to use a toilet?”

“Well,” Josh thinks then nods. “Yeah.”

“I can turn away,” Tyler offers and promptly closes his eyes shut. “Josh. I’m not watching.”

Come on, they have already seen each other naked. And honestly, Tyler is just sure he’s going to puke if he gets up. He doesn’t want Josh to see him like this again.

“Bad idea,” Josh responds with a noncommittal huff. Then, he hooks his hands under Tyler’s armpits and starts dragging him upright; Tyler guesses Josh intends to just carry him out of the bathroom.

Oh God, why Josh can’t just allow him to stay here.

Tyler hiccups again, putting a hand over his lips; his stomach convulses painfully, and Tyler gags at that as soon as Josh lifts his shoulders up from the floor. Tyler’s mouth is already full of some nasty gruel when Josh finally manages to sit him up; Tyler leans over the toilet, spits the substance out and then retches once again, wincing as the remains of his meal hit the water in the bowl.  _Disgusting._

“I’m sorry,” Tyler croaks out, outstretching his hand and flushing the toilet.

“Don’t worry about that.”

Josh rubs the small of Tyler’s back while he works on steadying his erratic breathing.

When Tyler makes sure he has nothing to expel from his still grumbling stomach, Josh turns on the water in the sink and takes a glass with the toothbrushes from the shelf. He lays the toothbrushes onto the edge of the sink and fills the glass up with water, then giving it to Tyler. Tyler drinks it, letting it wash away some pain in his upset stomach; he still can’t understand how his _healing-powers_ can make him suffer this way.

He didn’t know he was able to bring Paul back from a coma.

So Tyler thinks that his sickness and headache is not the highest price.

“Thanks,” Tyler sets an empty glass on the floor.

“Are you okay to wait in the hallway?” Josh asks, scratching his unshaven chin.

Tyler nods.

He hiccups again when Josh moves him out of the bathroom and sits him down on the floor; Tyler leans his back against the wall and drags his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his middle.

Josh locks himself in the bathroom and turns the shower on, and Tyler isn’t even interested in overhearing the sounds Josh is making; Tyler is just about to lie down and take a rest because the nausea finally stops scorching his poor insides.

When Josh comes out of the bathroom, Tyler is curled into a fetal position on the parquet, sleeping.

“Tyler?”

“Oh,” Tyler rubs his face. “I think I fell asleep.”

“Yeah, you did,” Josh breathes out in relief. He smells like mint toothpaste and a shaving gel. “Do you want to… continue?”

“I just want to sleep,” Tyler mumbles. He’s getting these weird goosebumps jumping all over his body, and the idea of lying on the floor all day doesn’t seem so brilliant anymore.

“Bedroom?” Josh offers.

“Yes.”

Tyler feels terrible about taking a huge amount of Josh’s time.

A dizzy drowsiness clouds Tyler’s head as he stands up, and Josh helps him make it back to the bedroom; Tyler falls face down onto the bed, throwing a blanket over his shoulders and still freezing even in his hoodie, thick joggers and socks.

His stomach flips a little when Josh brings a trash can and places it near the bed; Tyler just swallows the saliva and buries his face into the pillow.

“I can’t leave you like this,” Josh utters.

Tyler tugs the blanket over his head.

“I’m feeling better.”

This time, he’s not lying. Though, Tyler still feels like his internal organs are swarming inside of him, but he doesn’t think this might make him vomit again.

Josh shoves his hand under the blanket and touches Tyler’s forehead, whispering something like ‘crap’, and then Tyler hears him leaving the room and talking to someone on the phone.

“…yeah, yes. He’s been puking all night long, but now he says he’s okay, but I don’t actually think so.”

Tyler groans into the pillow. Josh doesn’t believe him. Amazing.

“Can you, like, come and watch him, please? I’m about to be late for work, honestly, um, yes, Tyler is sleeping now. No, he isn’t going to kill you,” Josh cackles softly. “He’s like, a shy and nice guy, yeah.”

If Josh is talking to his Mom, Tyler is ready to die of shame. Tyler doesn’t need Laura here, taking care of him, no, Tyler doesn’t need anyone except Josh.

“Yes, cool. Thanks.”

When Josh enters the bedroom again, Tyler lets out some fake snorts and doesn’t even move when Josh leans forward and kisses his cheek. Tyler only sighs and lets the wave of sleepiness wash over him.

He likes Josh’s Mom though, but he’s sure he now has enough time and strength to cure himself without Laura’s help.

Josh snorts and goes out of the room; then, the lock clicks, just proving Tyler’s loneliness.

Tyler swaddles himself with a quilt blanket and eventually passes out.

 

***

Tyler smiles in his sleep when he feels a warm hand stroking his hair; he didn’t think he’s slept for so long. He didn’t even hear when Josh came back home. Tyler rolls over onto his back and untangles his legs from the blanket; he cracks his eyelids open, expecting to see Josh’s worried face and his smile, but unfortunately, the man, sitting on the edge of the bed is not Josh. 

“Oh my,” Tyler mutters; he tries to cover his head with the blanket again, but the guy snatches it out of his hands. “Hello.”

“Hi,” the guy sighs, reaching his hand for a shake. “Barakat,” he introduces himself. “Jack.”

“Joseph,” Tyler squeezes Jack’s palm. “Tyler.”

Tyler kind of wishes he could turn back time and snatch the phone out of Josh’s hand.

“You’re not paying the rent,” Jack explains. “So I think you should leave right the fuck now.”

Tyler fights the urge to flip him off.

“I’m just kidding, relax,” Jack laughs, winking at Tyler playfully. “I don’t give a fuck about your money, honestly, don’t be afraid, _Ty_. Josh asked me to check you out, and all I can say is: you’re so fucking lucky, guys. Man, really, you’re sleeping with _Josh Dun_ , isn’t it great?!”

“Uh. Probably?” Tyler pushes himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t think his first meeting with Jack was going to be like this. Though, Jack doesn’t seem confused or embarrassed. He just grins widely, wrinkling his pretty big nose, and hands Tyler a bottle of water.

“Stay hydrated, man,” Jack points out. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

Tyler’s anxiety makes him feel sick.

“Fine, I guess,” he mutters.

Maybe Jack will believe him and leave him alone.

“It’s cool. I’m gonna call Josh and tell him you’re alive,” Jack decides, whipping his iphone out of the pocket of his skinny jeans.

Tyler thinks Jack looks pretty respectable. But he has a quite wild shaggy hair, black with a purple chunk that strangely matches Josh’s hair color. Tyler convinces himself he isn’t jealous.

“Yo, J? Yep,” Jack grins and presses his forefinger to his lips. “Having fun with Tyler, yeah, he’s awake. Dude, why don’t you feed him well enough? He’s just skin and bones,” Jack chuckles, and Tyler only facepalms at that. “Wanna talk to Josh?” Jack turns to Tyler.

Tyler shakes his head, nearly spitting out a mouthful of water.

He’s going to kick Josh’s ass.

“Are you going to hurl?” Jack reaches for a trashcan, almost pushing Tyler off the bed.

Tyler shakes his head again.

“He’s gonna be fine, dude,” Jack concludes over the phone. “Yeah, waiting for you. Bye, J.”

Jack takes the bottle from Tyler’s hands and bends over the side of the bed to set it onto the floor.

“You said I’m just skin and bones,” Tyler crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t like when people say things like this one. I have some muscles.”

Jack is pretty skinny, too, and Tyler thinks that his ‘witty’ comment was quite unfair.

“No, man, I didn’t mean to insult you or something,” Jack says apologetically. “You’re just so… aesthetic, so Tumblr, you know. Have you ever posted your photos on Tumblr?”

“N-no,” Tyler chokes out.

“I’m a photographer,” Jack explains. “Just, you know, working with models and stuff, and I’m sick of all that glamour, and you’re like, a normal dude. Without a ton of makeup and shit. A natural beauty.”

“Thanks?” Tyler doesn’t know how to accept a compliment. _‘Aliens created me like this,’_ he giggles to himself.

He doesn’t think he can look attractive after that ass-kicking vomiting episode. He has to brush his teeth and take a shower as well.

“So, you don’t have Tumblr?”

Tyler shakes his head, a headache splashes all over his skull.

“Instagram? Twitter?”

“I, um,” Tyler tries to keep his voice calm, but the nervousness squeezes his throat. “I d-don’t know what these _words_ mean.”

He expects Jack’s laughter.

“They’re just websites,” Jack just says. “They’re evil, honestly. You just want to get more likes and stuff and feel like shit when it never happens.”

“Like…” Tyler clears his throat. “Like social medias?”

“Exactly,” Jack nods.

Tyler mentally gives himself a prize. He’s not that stupid. Jenna and Josh have Facebook accounts, Tyler remembers that. Though, he’s never used the Internet for posting his own pics; Tyler was mostly hacking the systems or spying on the UFOs and reading the articles about those cases.

“I’m far from that,” Tyler replies, yawning a little and stretching.

“That’s just awesome, believe me,” Jack snaps his fingers. “But I can do a photoshoot of you and Josh if you want to. Just like, family photos.”

“No, no, thanks. I don’t really like taking pictures,” Tyler smiles with the corner of his mouth.

“I’m gonna do that on your wedding anyway,” Jack remarks.

“Wedding?” Tyler perks up. “We didn’t plan that…”

“It’s gonna happen anyway,” Jack winks again, playing with the earring in his left earlobe.

They don’t have money for the wedding.

“So,” Jack pulls Tyler out of his thoughts. “Sorry man, but you should eat something. And then we can just talk and wait for Josh, what do you think about that?”

“I’m not hungry,” Tyler grumbles. “And I’m n-not the one to talk.”

Jack is too loud and too optimistic and it perplexes Tyler. He kind of wants to call Josh and ask him to send Jack back, because all Tyler needs is silence.

 

***

“How did you manage to get Josh’s heart?”

Tyler is pretty sure he blushes.

Then, he realizes that his head lies on Jack’s lap and Jack plays with his hair. Jack made him eat some soup an hour ago, and Tyler is still surprised that the food didn’t splash back out.

“Oh, dude,” Tyler stares at the ceiling like he can find the right words written all over it.

“No, really,” Jack bends his knees a little. “How? I know this dude from the high school, he’s like… he doesn’t let anyone cross the line? I swear, he frendzoned every-fucking-one who ever tried to get into his pants!”

“I didn’t try to do… that,” Tyler defends himself.  

“Well,” Jack continues. “He had a few drunk one-night stands though, yeah, but… Like, he didn’t try to break hearts for fun, he’s a good guy,” he assures. “He didn’t make any promises though.”

Tyler wants to say that Josh has promised him a lot, but he doesn’t want to gloat. Though, their _togetherness_ started with a drunk sex, and maybe it’s just Josh’s style.

“I’m sorry if you still love him,” Tyler says quietly.

“What?!”

“Jack, it’s clear. I know there was something between you and J-josh,” Tyler winces as the soup in his stomach starts to boil.

“I’m not holding on to my past, Ty,” Jack gives him a candid smile. “Really proud of you, guys.”

“Thank you.”

Tyler suddenly feels calm and relaxed, and Jack is acting like a mother hen.

Tyler isn’t sure if falling asleep like this would be polite enough, but he feels slightly lightheaded in a good way, so he just closes his eyes for a second.

 

***

“Ty, I’m home!”

Jack’s knee hits the back of Tyler’s head as Jack rolls over the side of the bed like he is Tyler’s lover, and Josh is his husband who is about to catch them off guard. Tyler gasps in surprise as his brain snaps back to consciousness, and then he shoves himself back under the blanket even though his fever is gone.

He wants to take off this black hoodie, but he isn’t wearing any t-shirt underneath so he decides to wait.

Tyler rests his head on the pillow and Jack sits down onto the chair beside the bed as Josh walks into the bedroom.

“Hey,” Josh whispers.

“Hey, Josh,” Tyler waves at him.

Tyler props himself up and leans against Josh’s side as Josh flops down onto the mattress.

“Well,” Jack licks his lips. “You got such a cranky boyfriend.”

Tyler glares at him.

“Alright, that’s bullshit,” Jack smirks. “He’s perfect.”

“I told you,” Josh smiles, wrapping his arm around Tyler’s shoulders.

Tyler just nuzzles his neck then rubbing his nose against Josh’s cheek; Josh smells like fresh air and his favorite cologne and _home,_ and Tyler closes his eyes, enjoying it.

“Not gonna bother you anymore,” Jack raises his hands up jokingly.

“Yeah, thank you for helping _us_ ,” Josh still holds Tyler’s hand when Jack leans to hug them and then heads to the door.

In the hallway Jack hugs them once again before saying they don’t have to pay the rent for this month.

Josh responds with the sincerest THANKS.

 

***

They’re lying on the bed with the laptop and with a bucket of the ice-cream, because Josh is so into re-watching the old episodes of The X-files.

“I think you like The X-files only because David Duchovny is hot,” Tyler interjects, poking Josh’s side and seeking for attention.

“You’re hotter,” Josh responds, clamping the spoon between his teeth.

Scully says that the aliens aren’t real.

“Why is she always like this?” Tyler ponders. “She pretends to be his friend and then just like ‘oh what are you talking about.’ Who even needs friends who don’t believe?!”

“We all know Scully is going to believe later,” Josh points out.

“It won’t change anything,” Tyler huffs. “Too late.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Josh agrees. “Wanna some?” he brings a spoonful of the ice-cream to Tyler’s lips.

“No, thanks. I ate some soup,” Tyler frowns. “Josh,” he wriggles a little to find a more comfortable position. “Do you really think about our wedding?”

Josh chokes on the dessert.

“Is this necessary?” he pauses the movie.

“Just asked,” Tyler shrugs. “That question about the kids, and… we can’t just start with kids, can we?”

“Oh, I got it,” Josh chuckles as he licks the spoon. “I think… I think we should definitely get married.”

Tyler can hear the thuds of Josh’s heart.

“That’s great,” Tyler whispers into Josh’s ear, running the tip of his tongue over the black gauge. “And now give me some ice-cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just NEEDED jack in this story


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you understand it was just a nightmare?” Josh is already by Tyler’s side, ready to soothe his crazy mind.
> 
> Tyler holds his hand above his head like a lantern.
> 
> “I killed her.”
> 
> “No, you didn’t,” Josh says confidently.
> 
> But Josh doesn’t understand.

Tyler can barely see the back of Josh’s neck in front of him; the lights are quite dim, and the embrace of darkness feels just so good right now. Though, he keeps stepping onto Josh’s jeans because he didn’t take them off completely, and they’re just tangled around his ankles. Josh is hot, the scent of his skin is arousing, and he keeps making those audible noises as Tyler fucks him into the wall.

Tyler thinks his good reputation is dead since now — come on, they’re having sex in a fucking _garage_ during Tyler’s official lunch break.

Tyler has just offered Josh to come for it, and here’s the result.

Tyler huffs and jerks forward, pressing his chest against Josh’s back as they keep moving their hips; the risk of being caught only increases that burning sensation in the pit of Tyler’s stomach, and he breathes heavily, biting at Josh’s tattooed shoulder and muffling his own soft moans. Josh groans something incoherent, balancing himself against the table in the corner and throwing his head back; he nearly hits Tyler in the face, but it doesn’t matter, because Tyler is so, _so_ close, the excitement doesn’t let him take a full breath, and he starts to notice colorful dots and zigzags at the edges of his vision. But Josh is still _too_ loud, and it might ruin their wonderful plan.

“Josh, they c-can hear us,” Tyler warns, panting and focusing on controlling his sudden tremor.

“Whatever,” Josh exhales; this sound echoes through the room.

Tyler clamps his left palm over Josh’s mouth, unable to hold himself back from moving his thumb and forefinger up and pinching Josh’s nostrils, Josh’s silver nose ring presses to his fingertip. They keep moving in a perfect rhythm; Josh chokes a little as Tyler’s hand blocks his only way to breathe, but he accepts the rules, swallowing his indistinct roars and thrusting into Tyler’s fist.

Josh gropes Tyler’s bare thighs, making him press harder, searching for more friction; Tyler almost trips over his own pants when he takes a step forward, shoving his knee between Josh’s legs.

Tyler literally sees stars and galaxies as he comes, a kaleidoscopic firework in his head; all dizzy and pleasantly exhausted, he removes his hand off Josh’s face, earning a strangled moan that forces its way out of the back of Josh’s throat. Tyler works his best on getting his boyfriend off quickly, twisting his wrist and stroking him faster, and finally Tyler feels a warm and sticky substance spurting all over his palm and on the dusty wall in front of them. Josh groans, and Tyler drops his forehead onto Josh’s muscular shoulder, wrapping his arms around Josh’s waist and sending his heartbeat down Josh’s spine.

“You’re staining my shirt,” Josh smirks, pushing Tyler’s gross hand off his torso.

“Whatever,” Tyler shrugs with a little smile. His t-shirt is stained as well.

He doesn’t feel like moving, and Josh apparently still hasn’t come back to senses, but there’s no time for cuddles. So, Tyler tosses a used condom into the trashcan in the corner of the garage and covers it with a bunch of some old newspapers; then, they take their time on cleaning themselves with tissues. Josh yanks his underwear and jeans back up, bending over to take his red snapback from the floor; Tyler watches him concernedly and fights with his belt that suddenly refuses to keep his pants on his hips.

“Well,” Josh says like he reads the verdict. “That was pretty hot, but I’m not really into it.”

“What do you mean?” Tyler raises his eyebrow.

Josh rubs his jaw; he has a peculiar round-shaped bruise there, and Tyler feels a tiny twinge of guilt.

“Kinks, I mean. A breathplay,” Josh stumbles backwards and hops onto the desk, swinging his legs over the edge.

“What?” Tyler’s throat feels like he’d just swallowed a spoonful of salt. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, it’s alright, really,” Josh chuckles a little. “Just, you know… if you want to pinch my nose again, just warn.”

“Oh God,” Tyler smacks his palm against his forehead as Josh’s words turn into a picture in his brain.

Josh was probably thinking that Tyler was going to choke him again, but Tyler just wanted him to stop being so loud, but Josh’s weak breathing brushing over Tyler’s palm felt so amazing and _right_ that Tyler couldn’t help himself.

“Tyler?”

Tyler is about to get hard again, only from the memories of their offbeat sex. He sits down next to Josh, running his fingers down Josh’s thigh and sticking his knees together as the weird hotness starts pooling in his abdomen again.

He shouldn’t treat Josh like this.

“I’m sorry if it was un-ncomfortable for you,” Tyler’s tongue stammers on the long word, and it suddenly makes his cheeks grow hot.

He knows that Josh thinks his stutter is pretty cute, but Tyler hates when his mouth fools him this way. His voice still cracks sometimes. It reminds him of those days when he was eighteen and stupid and literally couldn’t say a word.

These flashbacks keep dragging him down, and Tyler shakes his head to make them stop reminding him of his true essence.

“Well, is the lunch break over?” Josh glances at the screen of his phone.

“Maybe,” Tyler shrugs but then suddenly remembers one important thing. “But you haven’t had lunch yet.”

“I think I’ll buy some coffee in a drive-thru?” Josh ruffles his hair as he says so. “I won’t forget to eat, no worries.”

“Okay. Let’s get you out of here?”

It’s such a good thing that Josh has a car and a job that allows him to drive across the town, and he can just visit Tyler at his rather boring workplace. Though, Tyler thinks that Josh comes to him because he wants to make sure that Tyler hasn’t done anything bad or dangerous.

Tyler pushes Josh towards the door, listening to the noises and hoping that their clothes are still relatively clean, and Tyler’s co-workers won’t stare at some dubious stains. Their innocent kiss is about to grow into a heavy make-out session, but Tyler pulls away right in time when Josh’s fingers are already working on undoing his belt again. Tyler can’t wait for it, honestly. Maybe some RedBull ingredients make him horny.

He leads Josh out of the garage; they run to Josh’s car parked in the nearest parking lot, and it makes Tyler giggle.

“Alright,” Josh fishes the keys out of the pocket of his jeans. “Call me. I’ll pick you up.”

“Sure,” Tyler peeks into a car and notices some boxes in the backseat; it makes him think back of their first (and awkward) meeting.

Tyler is so lucky to have a boyfriend like Josh.

When Josh drives his car away from the parking lot, Tyler can’t force himself to get back to work; he just watches how Josh’s car gets smaller and smaller, then turning to a tiny dot and disappearing around the corner.

 

***

_The slit on the woman’s neck kind of looks like a red choker necklace, the blood is still oozing from an open wound, staining the blouse on her chest and dribbling all over the floor. It’s sad, because she had a nice fluffy carpet, and it’s ruined now._

_He tilts his head to the side, watching this horrifying picture, then wiping a straight razor on the hem of his black t-shirt and making his way to the bathroom. His hands are blood-stained, red is mixed with the blackened skin on his palms; he turns the water on, trying to make himself clean and splashing crimson all over the sink. He didn’t leave any fingerprints because he doesn’t have them. He’s perfect. They won’t catch him and won’t find out a thing about his race._

_The Other Guy is defective. A parody of a human._

_But not him._

_He looks at the circle-marks and hieroglyphs covering his hands, they become visible as he washes the blood off; the blackness on his palms and wrists will never go away, it’s his specific mark, a Sign, and The Other Guy is too stupid to get this right._

_A scornful smirk plays on his lips as he walks out of the bathroom and glances at the corpse again; he’ll teach them how to keep their mouths shut._

_And The Other Guy won’t stop him._

“Tyler?” a voice sneaks through the darkness swirling above Tyler’s head. “Oh crap, Tyler, wake up, hey, wake up, please!”

Tyler can’t move. He just wants to raise his hand up and wipe his sore lips, but then he realizes that somebody keeps holding him in place; Tyler coughs, craving to fill up the emptiness in his deflated lungs, the air keeps weighting him down, and Tyler refuses to open his eyes not to be met by the disgusting picture he’s just seen.

_A dead body on the floor._

“Tyler. Tyler, it was just a dream.”

 _‘No, it wasn’t’_ Tyler wants to say but a harsh wheezing is all what comes out.

Josh hunches over him, Tyler can recognize the outlines of his face and body in the dark; Tyler’s hands are outstretched, but Josh grips at his forearms tightly, intending to hold them above Tyler’s head. Tyler decides to push Josh away, but when he tries to do so, he finds himself paralyzed; he squirms, but Josh is much _stronger_ and heavier than him, and he can actually do with Tyler whatever he wants.

 _‘He is abusive,’_ a voice in Tyler’s head hisses. It sounds like Tyler’s normal voice, but much deeper and rougher, almost distorted.

Tyler whimpers and closes his eyes again.

He doesn’t know what happened, and why Josh is sitting on his stomach, and _it hurts_ , and Tyler’s hands are still locked in Josh’s grasp, and Josh pins him down the mattress, and…

“No,” Tyler begs. “D-don’t do that.”

“What?! Tyler?” something in Josh’s tone makes Tyler shiver.

Something terrible has definitely happened, but Tyler’s fogged brain can’t figure that out.

“A body,” Tyler whispers. “Blood.”

“Your dream?” Josh asks, unclenching his fingers.

Josh is shrouded in a cocoon of panic.

“It-t was n-not a dream,” Tyler tries, but the words only hurt his dry throat.

“Tyler,” Josh says calmly. “Where are you now?”

“I d-don’t know.”

Tyler doesn’t want to know.

“Open your eyes.”

“No.”

“Why?” Josh’s hand is now placed on Tyler’s bare chest, sliding up and down.

Josh doesn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna see a d-dead woman again,” Tyler spits out.

Josh still doesn’t understand.

“There are no dead women,” Josh assures. “I promise.”

And Tyler believes him.

The first thing he sees as he opens his eyes is the gleaming, a faint yellow color splattering all over the contours of his marks. There’s no starlight. It’s not right. Tyler can catch the rays of his glowing play in Josh’s eyes, and there’s the mask of calmness that covers Josh’s true facial expression — a fear.

Tyler pulls at his own hair, covering his face with his forearms, and the shining of his patterns keeps hitting his eyes even though he screws them shut again. His head hurts, no, it’s not just a pain — it’s a knife shredding Tyler’s brain to pieces and making them blend with each other.

The air is thick and hot, and Tyler’s vision re-plays itself in his mind, like a movie, but Tyler is unable to turn away from the imaginary screen.

“There was so m-much blood.”

Josh isn’t sitting on top of him anymore, he just keeps rubbing Tyler’s chest, following the shining pattern with his finger.

“You were tossing and screaming,” Josh informs him. “I was trying to keep you from hurting yourself.”

Tyler heard some screams in his dream. He didn’t know they were his own.

“That woman. She’s d-dead,” Tyler chokes out. “I kn-now that.”

His voice won’t stop shaking.

He saw that corpse with his own eyes, and it was like playing a first-person horror game, Tyler had a _real_ weapon, but he wasn’t just _Tyler_ , he was a murderer and he was totally enjoying that.

_His Mission._

Oh no.

Tyler sits up, resting his sweaty back against the pillows and hugging his knees to his pulsating chest. The line of hieroglyphs on his right forearm is still gleaming, and Tyler wonders why the light of the other tattoos has already faded.

“Do you understand it was just a nightmare?” Josh is already by Tyler’s side, ready to soothe his crazy mind.

Tyler holds his hand above his head like a lantern.

“I killed her.”

“No, you didn’t,” Josh says confidently.

But Josh doesn’t understand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘Why am I like this?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: be careful reading the penultimate part (blood, etc)

Abby Vaughn is dead.

This is the beginning of the end.

When Tyler wakes up early in the morning (Josh forced him to take some sleeping pills last night, so _predictable_ ), the reality welcomes him with a splitting headache and three missed calls from Jenna.

And then he notices her goddamn email that makes his eyes water: _‘Abby Vaughn is dead’_.

As if Tyler doesn’t know.

Josh’s sister’s name is Abby, Tyler thinks blankly. This funny coincidence only makes him feel ill.

“She’s dead,” Tyler confirms.

“No. No, no, no. This can’t be real,” Josh’s face gets paler as he says so. “Who is she? That woman from your dream?”

Tyler guesses that Josh begins to understand now.

Tyler has somehow witnessed a murder, no, he really was there; the sensation of the warm blood on his _black_ hands keeps sticking to his overheated skin, crawling inside him like a spider and spreading venom all over his veins. Tyler looks down at his hands — they’re shaking, trembling badly, but there are no foreign stains on Tyler’s palms and wrists; _of course_ , because Tyler hasn’t done anything related to his Mission. Hopefully.

Tyler suddenly wants to peel his marked skin off, his fingernails scratch the hieroglyphs on his forearm, _deeper, deeper, deeper,_ leaving only long and thin red lines which promptly disappear. Tyler’s self-healing powers don’t even let him punish himself.

Tyler wonders if he can die.

He pinches the skin again, squeezing and twitching it between his fingertips and watching the color of it changes a little; he’s certain he can’t leave bruises or scars, but it only encourages him.

“Tyler.”

Josh’s hand catches Tyler’s wrist, pulling it away gently. A red spot on Tyler’s arm soaks through the skin.

Josh’s voice is still hoarse after sleep.

“It’s not your fault.” 

Tyler can’t tear his bloodshot eyes away from the row of black symbols on his hand.

“Who is Abby Vaughn? Is she… Is she a Contactee?”

Josh is really smart. Tyler thinks he might die from loving him so hard.

“I t-told you,” Tyler wheezes out. “She was a Contactee. And now she is dead, because I k-killed her in my dream.”

Abby Vaughn was the first Contactee Tyler had ever met. He found her by her post on the Internet, which was about the mysterious light and a round object in the sky, and the date was the same date when Tyler first woke up without having a clue what was going on, and why his head hurt so much. So Tyler thought she could help him.

It didn’t take long to find Abby’s address.

Everything was perfectly fine before that fateful meeting. Tyler had already been living with Jenna for over a year, sharing her lovely apartment; he had a job, but he had no memories about what had happened to him.

He just was too curious.

Abby Vaughn wasn’t glad to have a conversation with a guy who had an uncontrollable stutter and amnesia. Tyler tried to explain what he was trying to get from her, but she just snapped at him, she said that Tyler was one of those stupid journalists and he will never understand a thing about the aliens’ invasions, so Tyler can just go and fuck himself. Though, then Abby added that she really saw the bright light and felt something lifting her up from the ground in her garden.

It didn’t help Tyler. He was just trying to understand why he didn’t remember anything from his past and why Space was trying to contact him.

And Tyler told her that.

But the Inflexible Abby Vaughn just showed him to the door. She even threatened to call the police on him.

In the evening, when Tyler was home alone and Jenna was still hanging out with her _friends_ , Tyler couldn’t understand what was happening to him; his body was burning and convulsing so hard it made him retch and choke on his own tongue. He was hyperventilating and hallucinating of being buried alive, and his right arm hurt as if an invisible power was breaking his oddly fragile bones.

Tyler was almost grateful when the darkness finally welcomed him; Jenna found him half an hour later, sprawled across the kitchen floor, unconscious.

He didn’t want to wake up.

When Tyler’s senses came back to him, Jenna was shaking him like a rattle and slapping his cheeks and screaming something about the epileptic seizure. Tyler didn’t know what that was meant to be. He just wanted to wipe a dried foam and bile off his lips. He wanted to soothe the pain in his temples and in his right forearm.

Jenna gave him some green pills, saying they were just painkillers, but Tyler didn’t want to believe her; as soon as he stumbled into the bathroom, he shoved two fingers down his throat and induced a violent vomiting to get his stomach pumped. He couldn’t stop dry-heaving for such a long time, and Jenna was still knocking at the door and begging him to let her in and probably sobbing.

Tyler wanted to leave his _violated_  body, to relieve the pressure under his — that process felt like rotting alive — skin, but the only thing he could do was tugging his sweatshirt over his head and dropping it on the floor.

Then, he saw that.

A vertical line of signs and symbols on his forearm, his usually tanned skin was bruised and red all over the _gleaming_ _tattoo,_ and the pain was just striking him down, a million of tiny and sharp pins was sticking into his buzzing muscles and bones.

It had taken some time to realize that Abby Vaughn was the reason.

Now, Tyler still doesn’t want to share that story about his first marking with Josh, but he still loathes these patterns more than he loathes the others. The mark he got after meeting Josh is his favorite, Tyler can say — maybe because it is dedicated to Josh, but probably because getting that cross-like sign didn’t make him spew that disgusting foam mixed with his own insides.

Tyler guesses he’s throwing up too often and winces at that. His body and his mind are his main enemies.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Tyler asks. VESSEL already knows about the murder, and the agents are probably on their way.

“Tyler,” Josh cups Tyler’s chin and forces him to make an eye-contact. “Remember, you didn’t kill her.”

“How will I prove that?!” Tyler pushes Josh’s shoulder to give his words some physical form.

“I can prove you didn’t leave the apartment and were just sleeping,” Josh offers.

VESSEL won’t believe this shit.

More than that, even _Tyler_ doesn’t believe Josh’s words.

Josh is searching for his clothes under the bed to get dressed for work, and Tyler is still unable to move; he places his hands between his knees and doesn’t even try to release his brain from a cobweb of that nightmare.

Abby Vaughn was forty-two years old.

 

***

“Your t-shirt is inside out,” Tyler’s co-worker Dallon chuckles as Tyler enters the garage.

Tyler responds with an indifferent half-shrug.

“Who cares?”

“You look like a weirdo.”

Dallon is a nice and smiley guy, he has a wife and two little kids, and he’s probably going to give Tyler a lecture called ‘How To Live This Life’.

Tyler is not in the mood.

Tyler busies himself with rummaging through the bag with the instruments; they have to repair an ugly dent in the car’s door, and Tyler hopes it will distract him from his depressive thoughts.

His ratty t-shirt is _still_ inside out. It’s not a big deal. Tyler doesn’t like this print anyway.

Tyler’s head scares him, sending these hideous goosebumps up and down his back, anxiety floods his lungs. Somebody, no, _something_ killed that poor woman, making Tyler’s dark part gloat. These visions and nightmares are _foreign_ ; they tie around Tyler’s mind and throat like an invisible barbed wire, and Tyler grabs at his neck to make sure there is no noose wrapped around it.

“Is everything okay?”

“M?”

Tyler didn’t hear what Dallon has just said.

“Are you alright?” Dallon carefully touches Tyler’s elbow.

“Why are you asking?” Tyler jerks his hand abruptly.

“Just… if it’s something about that punk-guy you’re living with…” Dallon frowns as he says so.

“Great,” Tyler rolls his eyes. “That’s why I _love_ people- you guys always see what you want to see. Do you really think that Josh, oh wait- that _punk_ -guy I’m living with is abusing me?”

Tyler is so proud that he managed to blurt that tirade out without any stuttering. His social skills are not that hopeless.

Dallon bites his tongue.

“Calm down,” he mutters. “Just thought you needed to talk to someone.”

“I appreciate this,” Tyler nods.

Dallon doesn’t ask Tyler about his personal life anymore.

This day isn’t great, which doesn’t come as a surprise; Tyler keeps thinking of the murder, and why his co-workers aren’t sharing gossips about that. In real life there was probably much more blood than Tyler saw in his dream. Oh God, Tyler still remembers it dribbling from his fingertips and spraying his clothes; he remembers the red puddle all over Abby’s head, her dark hair sticking to the floor. The wound on her neck was like her second mouth with pursed lips.

Tyler thinks he might just vomit all over the hood of the car and blame it all on a food poisoning, and maybe then his boss will let him go home. Or just kick him out of the auto service, because Tyler gets sick regularly, and it definitely pisses his boss off.

Tyler doesn’t want to lose his only source of income.

Josh calls him every hour, asking if everything is alright.

Again, Tyler appreciates Josh’s concern, but there are some things Josh is just unable to fix. When Josh calls him for the fourth time with the same question, Tyler snaps at him angrily and turns his phone off. Everything annoys him, rasping metal sounds don’t let him think, but Tyler just can’t live without thinking; his brain is boiling and swelling, which brings nothing but a terrible migraine. Tyler forces himself to swallow like two bites of his sandwich during the lunch break but nearly hurls.

_‘Why am I like this?’_

Josh probably keeps calling him and keeps freaking out. Tyler hopes Josh won’t get into a car accident due to his nervousness; Josh doesn’t deserve to die, but Tyler might kill him without even noticing that. He almost did it once.

Tyler knows the names of the Contactees he’d met, and he thinks he has to warn all of them; he can find their contacts, send emails to them or just call them. Tyler is ready to work for a goddamn VESSEL to protect those poor people from himself.

Tyler just wants to stay on the bright side of the life.

 

***

Josh is already home when Tyler enters the hallway and kicks off his shoes near the threshold.

“Thank God, Ty!”

This shout makes Tyler wince.

He saw Josh’s car on the way back home but just went in the opposite direction not to meet Josh. Tyler thought that the walk back home would clear his mind. Though, it didn’t.

Tyler shrugs and leans forward to kiss Josh, but Josh ducks his head; Tyler pretends it doesn’t bother him.

“What the heck, Tyler?!”

Honestly, Tyler isn’t surprised when he sees Jenna in the living room, arms crossed over her chest, and the look on her face is quite unfriendly.

“Well…” Tyler looks around the room, searching for the other agents.

“Where have you been?” Josh glares at him. “Jenna was about to stick needles under my fingernails to make me _talk_. So?”

Tyler just huffs in response.

“I don’t think you can roam the town alone,” Jenna says a little apologetically.

“Oh really?” Tyler crosses the room and goes towards Jenna. “One Contactee is dead, and you have already changed your minds? Come on, Jen, don’t be shy- take your t-tranquilizer, knock me out, drag me back to the lab,” he smirks. “Oh wait. Where is Merrick? Is he in the closet?”

Jenna’s palm smacks across Tyler’s cheek with a light whistle; the force of the slap makes Tyler’s head fall to the side, and Tyler flinches as a hot wave of pain washes all over the left side of his face.

“Yeah, you can hit me again, you know it won’t bring any d-damage,” Tyler hisses out, pressing his fingertips to his obviously reddened cheek.

“Can you please just shut up?” Josh grabs him by the shoulders, pushing him away from Jenna. Tyler can feel the vibes of anger still vibrating in the air. Tyler _wants_ to stop it, but his mouth keeps spitting venom.

“Yes, of course, _Joshie_ ,” Tyler replies mockingly. “Make me shut up. Don’t let me defend myself, come on!” he snarls.

“Josh, I need to check his neck,” Jenna suddenly says. “Hold him still.”

“What?!” Tyler raises his head up when Josh’s hands wrap around his torso.

Jenna probably thinks he got a new microchip or the new mark, but it’s not true, and Tyler only wriggles in Josh’s bear hug.

Tyler’s breath hitches when Jenna makes him tilt his head forward and inspects the back of his head; Tyler feels her long fingernails poking and nipping at the soft skin behind his ears. He just stares at the floor while Josh’s hands squeeze his ribs like steel hoops.

“Any new marks?” this question is addressed to Tyler.

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “I s-swear.”

“So, you’re clean,” Jenna concludes. “It’s strange.”

“Why?” Josh’s hands finally slide off Tyler’s body.

“One of the Contactees is dead,” Jenna points out.

“And now you think it was me,” Tyler quips. “Sorry, Jen, but Abby lives in a twenty miles away from here, and I’m like, not teleporting.”

“I don’t think it was you,” Jenna heaves out a sigh.

Her hand tousles Tyler’s hair, which only irritates him more. Only Josh is allowed to do that.

“So what do you want then?” Josh asks warily.

“I want to find the truth,” Jenna replies.

Tyler feels dizzy. He thinks he should eat something.

“I saw the corpse,” Tyler mutters. “Slit throat and a pool of blood.”

“What? Where?” Jenna literally grips the collar of Tyler’s _still_ inside out t-shirt.

“In my dream,” Tyler explains. “In my dream, I was happy that it happened. Though, I almost puked when Josh woke me up.”

Tyler can’t feel the floor under his legs, so Josh leads him towards the couch.

“He’s a sleepwalker,” Josh says. Tyler nods because there’s no point in hiding that detail. “I try to hold him, but I guess his mind keeps travelling even though his body is still in the bed.”

“My hands were all blood-soaked,” Tyler adds. “Not in real life though.”

Jenna covers her face with her palms.

“Oh God, no,” she groans. “This can’t be some weird Freddy Krueger-style shit!”

Tyler’s mind is empty. He doesn’t even feel the anger anymore, he’s just tired, and he wants to close his eyes to make his demons disappear.

“Guys!” Josh literally makes the lights in the room brighter as he starts tapping his fingers on his knee.

“Josh, don’t tell me you see these dreams as well,” Jenna warns him with a humorless smile.

“No, I’m fine,” Josh waves her words away. “Look, Tyler, you didn’t see  _killing_ Abby, right?

“What do you mean?” Tyler’s eyelids are heavy; he barely blinks his eyes open.

“You only saw her body,” Josh shakes Tyler’s shoulder slightly. “But not the process of slitting her throat. You didn’t kill her in your dream, Ty. You probably just found her.”

This statement has some logic.

“I was happy that she was dead,” Tyler grumbles.

“It doesn’t matter, dreams can turn everything upside down,” Josh utters, hugging Tyler tightly. “And your physical body was in the bed _with me_ , anyway.”

Jenna bites her nails.

“I don’t think Tyler could actually kill her,” she finally says. “VESSEL is working on that case. I’m not going to tell them about your dream, Tyler,” she decides. “Our agents and _the police_ couldn’t find any evidences.”

Tyler isn’t sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing.

“We are going to establish surveillance for the Contactees; they’re in danger, believe it or not.”

“Are you gonna spy on _Josh_?” this thought makes Tyler blush.

“What do you think I’m doing all the time?” Jenna smirks. “You’re a Contactee, Tyler. Don’t forget about that. All of you are connected, so I’m not surprised that you can feel when something happens to the others.”

Again, this has some logic.

“And what about… the d-deactivation?” Tyler’s mouth is dry as he squeezes the words out of his throat.

“We’re not talking about that,” Jenna cuts him off.

If Tyler is a walking danger, he prefers to be deactivated rather forgiven.

“Wanna stay here?” Tyler offers. He knows Jenna has a car, but she can’t drive back to VESSEL through the night.

“I’m staying in a motel,” she responds. “Gonna work on some results of our investigation.”

“You’re working too much,” Tyler says respectfully.

“I am such a nerd,” she rolls her eyes. “Alright, I gotta go.”

She only says _‘be careful’_ as she leaves the apartment.

Tyler wishes he could control everything.

 

***

Tyler’s sleepy brain starts to process that something is wrong when he starts to feel the streams of cold water trickling down his forehead, his temples and his neck. It feels like Tyler’s skull is full of clouds, and his eyes are full of sand.

The water floods his nostrils; Tyler coughs and opens his eyes.

He finds himself slumped near the wall in a shower cabin, and he can feel a bump already forming on the back of his aching head.

Tyler slowly sits up, feeling dizzy and weak; a stinging numbness in his left wrist distracts him from his headache. Tyler looks at it blankly and feels the yelp tearing his vocal cords apart; the water running towards the drain is _red,_ and the cut on Tyler’s wrist is _deep,_ and Tyler has no clue how his showering could end up this way.

The razorblade on the tiles still has some crimson stains.

“Josh!” Tyler cries out, jumping on his feet far too quick; he slips and falls onto his side, hurting his arm even more.

The cut crosses all three thin lines, tattooed on Tyler’s wrist; he has somehow ruined the tattoo that has been his one and only reminder, a sign that used to keep him from hurting himself again.

“Jo-o-sh!” Tyler coughs harder, clambering up the tiled wall and reaching for the shower faucet.

The air gets colder as Tyler drags himself out of the cabin, dropping blood all over the floor and squeezing his injured wrist with his good hand to staunch the bleeding.

To heal a cut like this usually takes ten minutes — Tyler is a pro.

He sways and smacks his shoulder against the doorframe; then he falls into Josh’s embrace, his head feels like a balloon filled up with helium.

“Tyler, why did you do that?!” Josh is so pale his lips turn blue. He gasps as he takes Tyler’s hand. “I’m not gonna let you take a fucking shower alone anymore!”

Tyler keeps mumbling something about his self-healing powers, but Josh is just a hurricane of panic, and Tyler can swear Josh is about to faint when some beads of Tyler’s blood splatter onto his t-shirt.

Josh is not good with blood.

Tyler hates himself.

Josh pushes him back into the bathroom and sits him down onto the closed toilet seat. Tyler just goes limp due to the blood-loss while Josh pulls the first-aid kit out of the cabinet above the sink.

Tyler’s underwear is still on; wet and cold fabric clings to his thighs, and he fidgets on the seat while Josh wraps a bandage around his wrist.

Tyler’s heart is about to twist itself inside out.

“Why?” Josh asks him again.

“I don’t remember,” is all Tyler says. “I just entered the bathroom, and then everything went black. I hit my h-head.”

“Tyler,” Josh uses some tissues to wipe the blood off Tyler’s chest and knees. “We have to do something with… your sleepwalking.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tyler winces as the broken skin starts to shrink under the bandage.

It’s a good thing that Josh didn’t call the ambulance.

 

***

After the incident Josh finally starts to try to prevent Tyler’s unpredictable night trips across the apartment.

Tyler offers to tie him up or handcuff him to the bed, but Josh calls these measures _too violent_. Instead, he just wraps his arms around Tyler’s upper body, pressing Tyler’s back to his chest so Tyler can barely change his sleeping position. Tyler kinda likes being that close to Josh at nights — Josh snorts into his ear, and he’s surprisingly good at holding Tyler’s body still.

Though, Josh is a heavy sleeper, and sometimes Tyler squirms and kicks Josh’s shin to let him know he’s awake, because _oh God, his full bladder is about to explode_. Tyler is grateful that Josh _always_ wakes up just in time to let him use the bathroom (while Tyler is solving his problems, Josh is waiting for him outside the door).

Tyler’s subconscious tells him it’s quite degrading, but anyway, it’s better than waking up in the middle of nowhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to make it dark


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Josh, why are you so hot?”
> 
> Worth a try.
> 
> “What?” Josh chuckles.
> 
> Tyler sets his closed laptop aside.
> 
> “Just,” Tyler licks his lips; he isn’t good at being seductive, but he wants to check if it works on Josh. “You’re hot.”

Tyler is hiding behind the hopes of finding a way to control his sudden bursts of anger; even though he keeps getting nightmares, he refuses to keep them in the trunk of his mind. He’s sure, _it_ keeps chasing him, painting his dreams in red and black colors, but Tyler usually wakes up with his head painfully empty.

He pretends he’s okay with that.

Though, Tyler can’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something bad is happening _right now_ , right behind his back, and he can’t press the pause button. The world changes while he blinks.

He calls this phenomenon Invisible Dreams, because he definitely dives into the sea of images and hallucinations every night, but he’s just unable to fish something out.

He’s frustrated and it makes his rage surface again.

Tyler’s days are dark.

Josh picks Tyler home from work, smiling and telling him some stupid stories about the missed toasters, and Tyler just grips at the seat belt and keeps giving Josh some automatic nods.

Tyler has a migraine, and Josh won’t stop talking as they enter the apartment.

He hates using Josh like a metaphorical punching bag, but something in Tyler’s head just clicks, provoking him into yelling and storming off the room. Tyler doesn’t even remember the reason of their arguing; Josh just must have said something, just trying to joke or cheer Tyler up, but for Tyler it was like a red light of the alarm.

_Alarm._

“You don’t fucking understand, Josh!” Tyler presses his fingers to his temples, attempting to hold his skull back from shattering to pieces. Tyler’s words have a sour flavor.

Josh stands in front of him, shoving his hands into his pockets; he might cause a storm in the room, scared lights flinch as Josh shrugs. 

“Why are you always blaming me?!” it seems like Josh starts to lose his temper. Something in the kitchen falls and hits the floor with a loud bang.

_Alarm._

“Because you just keep saying that everything is going to be f-fine, but it is not!” Tyler snaps back, slamming his fist into the bedroom’s wall. “They might just d-deactivate me, because I’m a fucking toy for aliens!”

Tyler’s skull cracks. His knuckles crack as well, he hears a light crunch, indicating that he has just probably sprained his wrist or maybe broken a bone, but a flash of pain somehow dulls Tyler’s delirium. Tyler hits the wall once again, leaving some visible knuckle-shaped dents in it.

“Stop it,” Josh yanks at Tyler’s arm but Tyler elbows Josh’s solar plexus.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I have that fucking right!”

Josh rubs his chest with a grimace of pain on his face.

 _‘No, Josh is just going to use me’_  a screechy voice in Tyler’s head prompts.

Tyler clenches his still bruised fist to punch the wall for the third time, but Josh is here again, blocking Tyler’s arms behind his back and hauling him towards the bed.

“Trashing Jack’s apartment is not a good idea, Ty.”

“Because it’s _Jack’s_?” Tyler asks sarcastically. “Come on, Josh, you can just blow him and apologize.”

If Josh wasn’t busy with wrapping his arms around Tyler’s body, he’d hit him, Tyler is certain. He knows that Josh isn’t cheating on him; Tyler just wants to make him feel some kind of a mental pain.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Josh says calmly. Tyler keeps tugging at the string of Josh’s soul — he needs to get the reaction, he _needs_ to break Josh down.

“Why don’t you want to try?”

Josh’s hand moves up; Tyler is sure he’s going to slap him or do something worse, but Josh just loosens his grasp, and Tyler just falls down onto the bed like a rag doll. He didn’t know his legs were made of cottonwool.

“Tyler. Come back to me,” Josh starts, massaging Tyler’s back and shoulders.

“What?”

Tyler’s head hurts so bad he wants to howl.

“It’s not you. It’s not _my_ Tyler,” Josh responds, rubbing circles over Tyler’s shoulder blades. “Come back.”

Tyler makes an attempt to smother himself with the pillow. Josh pushes his hand between Tyler’s chest and the mattress he’s lying on, gently rolling him over. The fountain of anger drains again, so Tyler can relax until the next episode. His mood swings are only getting worse though.

“Breathe,” Josh whispers soothingly. “Just breathe.”

“But you and Jack…” Tyler tries. It’s not the reason, but it has to be.

“Nothing,” Josh scoops Tyler into a tight hug. “Don’t be so jealous. By the way, I’m not bitching about you and Jenna.”

It’s like a punch in the gut. Josh is not allowed to use this weapon.

“But we haven’t had relationship,” now Tyler is the one to explain everything away.

Josh nods lightly.

“I know.” 

Tyler just kissed Jenna once, because he didn’t know how to show her his gratitude for making him feel safe and alive all the time. Though, it didn’t lead to anything except for Tyler sticking his knees together when he thought Jenna was going to touch him. He didn’t know much about sex and wasn’t actually ready for any invasions into his personal space.

Tyler really wants to fight his jealousy, but the image of Josh having sex with Jack somehow doesn’t want to disappear, bothering Tyler’s mind.

But now Tyler is able to give a sober assessment of the situation.

“My mind makes me say crazy things,” the shame presses down on Tyler like a concrete slab. “I’m really sorry about that.”

The pounding in his head doesn’t like his apologies. The pain localizes near his right temple, pulsating and jerking and causing Tyler to rest his forearm over his eyes.

“I’m not mad at you,” Josh sighs. “You’re probably the only person I can’t get mad at.”

Tyler responds with a crooked grin.

“You’re very patient.”

“Yes, I am.”

 

***

Two hours later Josh is sitting on the couch in front of the TV, and Tyler is surfing the Internet; his old laptop is about to set itself on fire, and the dormant pain in his head is about to strike him down again. He can’t find any articles about Abby Vaughn’s death. VESSEL is good at erasing any unwanted information. Tyler thinks he can hack a police archive, but his sanity tells him he’s going to get sued for that.

Tyler doesn’t want to go to jail.

Josh’s glance is still glued to the screen as he keeps switching channels but failing to find something that wouldn’t be a stupid reality show.

“Boring,” Josh concludes.

The Internet just says Abby Vaughn doesn’t exist, and Tyler closes his laptop with a whimper; VESSEL keeps taking the real facts away from Tyler, and he’s going to lose this battle if he won’t find another source of the information. Tyler can probably try to pick the key to their database as well, but it’s too risky. Tyler presses the heels of his palms to his tired eyes; the pain in his head causes a nauseating dizziness, and it’s not something Tyler wants to deal with _right now_.

He still feels terrible about yelling at Josh, but Josh doesn’t even seem offended; he takes his t-shirt off and tosses it over the back of a couch, not even caring where it lands.

He doesn’t pay any attention on Tyler.

Tyler doesn’t like being ignored.

“Josh, why are you so hot?”

Worth a try.

“What?” Josh chuckles.

Tyler sets his closed laptop aside.

“Just,” Tyler licks his lips; he isn’t good at being seductive, but he wants to check if it works on Josh. “You’re hot.”

The feeling of guilt keeps throwing Tyler back and forth, but now this sensation is mixed with something else — something physical and tangible. Tyler rubs the front of his skinny jeans, teasing himself and staring at Josh’s bare torso; Tyler has to admit that it’s better than any porn he’s ever tried to watch. Tyler’s gaze is focused on Josh’s abs, scanning the small bumps of his ribs under his skin. Tyler bites back a moan.

Josh is _his_.

Tyler’s shyness doesn’t actually let him be loud during sex; but when Josh hooks the collar of Tyler’s shirt with his finger and pulls him closer, Tyler breathes out so sonorously that these tiny bells start to ring in his ears. Josh gives him a sloppy kiss, just throwing the bait, but Tyler returns the kiss gratefully, grabbing at Josh’s nape hair and smashing their lips together once again.

Tyler is _incredibly_ turned on.

It feels like they’re floating underwater and sharing precious oxygen; Tyler smiles into Josh’s lips and crawls onto Josh’s lap, spreading his legs and pinning Josh’s hips down the couch.

That’s probably what all the teenage-couples do during the parties; Tyler doesn’t remember being a teenager, so he just takes whatever he can get from this intimate moment. He gives Josh a desperate kiss as a reward, nearly hitting Josh’s nose with his own; Tyler lifts his hips up a little and thinks that unzipping his jeans would be a nice idea.

Josh’s right hand sneaks between Tyler’s thighs, palming him through his jeans and pumping him just a little. Tyler lets his eyelids drop shut and grips at Josh’s bare shoulders, rocking his hips forward as the pulsation in his lower stomach grows into a pre-orgasmic tension. Everything happens too fast — Tyler manages just one more thrust into Josh’s palm, and one second later just he comes all over his jeans, spilling hot and sticky and fucking _wet_ , his face blushes as he slumps onto Josh’s chest, numb with embarrassment.

“Oh,” Josh’s eyes go wide in bewilderment.

Tyler’s crotch is still mostly pressed to Josh’s, which only makes him feel more mortified.

“I’m, um,” Tyler’s ears burn. “Sor-”

“It’s fine,” Josh murmurs, tugging at Tyler’s belt and making him quiver. “We can do this again later, if you want.”

The stickiness in Tyler’s jeans causes a certain discomfort; he wants to undress and wipe it off, but he can still feel Josh’s hard-on straining against his thigh.

Tyler doesn’t know why his mouth says a thing Tyler isn’t actually prepared for.

“Let me blow you,” Tyler offers, tasting the flavor of shame.

He notices a glimpse of interest in Josh’s eyes; Josh is about to say something, but Tyler just runs his forefinger over Josh’s lips, red and swollen from kissing. The next moment, Tyler is on his knees between Josh’s spread legs, fumbling with the zipper on his too-tight pants. Quivering and huffing, Tyler manages to pull Josh’s pants down to his ankles, making him fidget on the couch.

“Are you sure?” Josh cups Tyler’s chin softly.

Tyler nods mutely but doesn’t lift his head up, staring down at Josh’s groin. Josh is already leaking with precome, a tiny wet spot forming on the front of his grey boxers, and it looks embarrassingly appealing.

Tyler can do this. He has to make Josh feel good, at least once.

He braces himself as he lurches forward, his nose is on the level of the waistband of Josh’s underwear. Josh bucks his hips with the soft moan as Tyler starts to tug his boxers down, feeling the wetness on his chin; Josh’s hands are placed on Tyler’s shoulders, and Tyler is really about to get Josh naked and suck him off for the first time in his life.

He can’t imagine Josh’s cock on his tongue, but he’s positive he’s going to find out what it feels like _right now_.

Tyler takes a deep breath, pressing his mouth to Josh’s navel and sliding down slowly, moving his boxers down; but then, his eyes suddenly catch a small round scar on Josh’s abdomen — a patch of wrinkled skin just mocks Tyler as he blinks. 

 _‘It was your fault,’_ his inner voice says.

Tyler’s crumbling brain warns him he might get a panic attack.

Tyler swallows thickly, his hands on Josh’s hips, eyes closed now.

The air fills up with Josh’s messy pants, he’s trembling with anticipation, and then, all of a sudden, he grabs fistfuls of Tyler’s hair and forces him to bend his head and press his face directly to Josh’s crotch. Josh’s hips are moving up, sending a throbbing ripple through Tyler’s neck; Tyler starts to choke even though Josh’s damp underwear is still mostly on, and nothing dangerous happens. 

“Oh shit, Tyler, _faster_ ,” Josh breathes out, still pulling at Tyler’s hair and nearly ripping it off his scalp.

“J-josh, no,” Tyler stutters again. He’s _terrified;_ his racing heart is getting stuck in his throat, and the sight of Josh’s scar makes him want to puke. It would be _too much_.

“What?” Josh shifts a little. His fingers don’t even touch Tyler’s head anymore.

“I c-can’t do it,” Tyler exhales spasmodically. “I’m s-sorry, Josh, I thought I was ready, but I’m n-not,” Tyler knows how miserable it sounds.

But Josh’s scar is Tyler’s biggest turn-off, and Tyler is sure Josh wouldn’t be happy to get the contents of Tyler’s stomach smeared all over his crotch. Tyler drops his head onto Josh’s bare thigh helplessly, avoiding the patch of damaged skin on his stomach.

Josh is still hard, of course, Tyler can tell; but Josh just lets out a sigh, running his palms over Tyler’s shoulders and his upper back. The mess in Tyler’s jeans starts to dry, his underwear sticks to his thighs, and Tyler is more than just sure he looks pathetic right now.

“I didn’t mean to force you,” Josh says apologetically. “I’m kinda… horny, you know, I’m sorry, Ty. Are we okay?”

 _‘No’_ Tyler wants to say. Josh doesn’t deserve a boyfriend who comes in his pants like a virgin and always ruins everything.

“Yes,” Tyler replies timidly.

Tyler is still on his knees like a humiliated slave. He thinks he can even feel an invisible collar around his neck.

And Josh isn’t actually helping him.

“You can, just, you know, start with bananas,” Josh suddenly says, patting Tyler’s disheveled hair.

“No thanks,” Tyler snorts.

Josh huffs out a small laughter.

Minute later, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Tyler pulls away to let Josh take his pants back on and walk out of the room. Tyler has no doubt Josh is just going to masturbate in the shower because Tyler _failed_ at getting him off; but the sad thing is: this time Josh doesn’t even offer Tyler to join.

 

***

The Sun is dead, and the darkness covers the ground like a dense curtain.

Tyler feels a little less dirty, because he’s taken off his jeans along with his sticky underwear and kicked them underneath the bed. After, Tyler found his clean sweatpants in the wardrobe, threw his hoodie on and just went out for a walk not to blush at the light groans Josh was making in the bathroom.

Now Tyler just stands on the street, hiding his face under the hood and tucking his palms under his armpits to keep some warmth. Though, Tyler wants to chill to the bone only to let himself melt in Josh’s hug once he gets home.

The light coming from the streetlamp flickers a little, drawing Tyler’s attention.

It’s almost midnight — there are no any people on the street, and Tyler suddenly feels insecure. Josh is probably going to go and find him, but Tyler doesn’t want Josh to leave the apartment after the hot shower.

Josh might catch a cold.

Tyler kicks the small stone, sending it to jump across the sidewalk, and turns back to the building, intending to hide from the darkness, which thickens all around him.

Tyler shudders as the gust of wind sneaks through the fabric of his clothes.

Then, he hears light footsteps.

Then, there is the voice Tyler knows _so well_ that it makes his throbbing eardrums hurt.

“Hello, Tyler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just have to write something in notes because I LIKE the line that separates chapter summary from the 1st line of the chapter


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to see a show, Tyler?”

Tyler whips around, getting ready to face his way too real hallucination; he blinks hard to make _it_ disappear, but a lanky silhouette is already standing a few feet in front of Tyler.

“What? Surprised?”

 _It_ moves closer, forcing Tyler to take a step backwards cowardly.

Tyler rolls up the sleeve of his black hoodie and pinches at his forearm to pull himself out of the nightmare.

Unfortunately, this option is unavailable.

“Why don’t you want to just say ‘hello’? So rude, Tyler,” _it_ scoffs. “Or wait- what do you prefer? T-21, right?”

The reality turns into a horror-game again.

“W-what are you?” Tyler tugs the sleeve down to cover his shaking palm.

He braces himself to look into _its_ red eyes; they’re gleaming in the dark, permeated with the light shooting from the streetlamp. _It_ wears black leggings with black shorts and a plain black t-shirt is hanging loosely on _its_ scrawny frame. A red knit beanie covers _its_ forehead, but Tyler can still recognize _its_ facial features.

“Nice to meet you, Tyler,” _it_ smirks. “Wow. You’re even better than the mirror.”

Tyler is petrified.

He has no explanation why this Creature looks exactly like him; _it_ is the same weight and height as Tyler, and _it_ has Tyler’s nose, his lips and chin and _everything; it_ has Tyler’s marks on _its_ arms but _it_ also has something like a black paint smudged all over _its_ palms and neck. It seems like _its_ eyelashes are a little longer and darker than Tyler’s; almost like _it_ is wearing some mascara and eyeliner.

 _It_ stretches _its_ lips into a fake smile, gritting _its_ a bit crooked white teeth.

Tyler’s tongue runs over the row of his own crooked bottom teeth.

Unbelievable.

“Stop calling me ‘it’ in your head, come on, Tyler. I’m a _man_ ,” _it_ sneers.

Maybe it’s a chance to get the answers for Tyler’s specific questions.

“I saw your hands,” Tyler whispers huskily. “In my dream.”

“And Abby saw just _Tyler_ ,” Tyler’s twin replies. “Fun fact: she recognized you. She was going to tell you everything about her Contact. Oh man, she was pleading  _you_ not to kill her.”

The red fire of the Creature’s eyes urges Tyler’s clammy body to turn to a mess of goosebumps.

Now he knows _what_ killed Abby Vaughn that night.

“VESSEL will f-find you and deactivate you anyway,” Tyler hisses out, the anger oozes through the pores of his skin.

“Oh no, dear, don’t worry, they won’t catch me,” the dark version of Tyler chuckles obnoxiously. “I’m not as stupid as you are.”

 _‘But you’re stupid enough to show me your face’_ Tyler thinks but doesn’t utter so.

“What are you?” Tyler’s ribcage feels tight from the rage and anxiety.

“I have a lot of names,” _he_ says cagily. “But you can call me Blurryface. I am your reflection in a fogged mirror; that one that will never be clear.”

“Poetic asshole,” Tyler clenches his fists. He’s about to make a mad dash towards Blurryface and tackle him to the ground, but some invisible chains don’t let him start a fight.

Space starts to rumble.

“Don’t make any sudden moves, Joseph,” Blurryface orders; the snap of his fingers dissects a thick veil of silence. “I can control you, because _I am_ the king, and you’re just a stupid jester, so _please_ keep quiet.”

Tyler didn’t know his high-pitched voice could sound so powerful, sliding off Blurryface’s lips.

“Make me,” Tyler snarls. He probably can’t intimidate even a newborn puppy.

Blurryface shoots him with a scornful glance.

“Aw, you’re so sassy. But our poor baby couldn’t even kill a worthless human?” he moves towards Tyler with a cat’s grace. “You’re defective, Tyler. And that’s why _They_ created me. I know what I am supposed to do.”

“They?” Tyler panics but tries his best not to put that on display. “Aliens?! Did they clone _me?_ ”

“Call it as you want: cloning, creating, giving birth… They need spies,” Blurryface scratches the back of his black-stained neck. “And it turned out you were just a betrayer. Changed your blood composition, started a family life,” he raises his eyebrow. “What, Pinocchio wants to be a real boy?” Blurryface spits out, walking circles around Tyler. “You’re not even a human, don’t forget about that, Tyler.”

“I am a human!” Tyler snaps. The fear makes his voice crack.

He’s just a broken vessel.

“You’re still just a part of the Mission, a puppet, um, let me think,” Blurryface fakes the deliberation, rubbing his thumb over his smooth chin. “You know, you’re right. You can tell your _friends_ from VESSEL about me, but let’s be honest- do you want to wake up one day and find out that you’re covered in Josh’s beautiful guts?”

Tyler is still unable to move.

“You c-cant, you won’t…”

Jesus, he can’t even find courage to talk to a copy of himself.

“I can make you, Tyler,” Blurryface laughs wholeheartedly. “I can make you because you want that.”

He keeps speaking like he’s telling a fairytale, maneuvering his intonations and striking Tyler with sharp arrows of terror.

“You know what? I killed a guy today, just a regular college kid with gauges and a couple of tattoos…” Blurryface pauses. “Oh wait, you understand that?”

For some reason, Tyler is grateful he didn’t see _that_ murder.

“So. It was just a little rehearsal before a big show; I’d chosen that guy because he looked almost like Josh.”

He didn’t need to clarify that.

“Do you want to see a show, Tyler?”  

Tyler shakes his head.

“I know what you think. You have a self-destruct mechanism. Here, your head can kill you,” Blurryface’s fingers press to Tyler’s temple like a barrel of a gun. “Remember, you’re just an experiment, and I am the real result.”

Tyler pushes Blurryface away from him.

“VESSEL is spying on you.” 

Just one step. Tyler needs to breathe.

“Or I’m spying on VESSEL,” Blurryface shrugs in _Tyler’s_ manner. “You know, you have at least two people you love, and I have nothing to lose. So please use your brain before you run to Jenna with your unconfirmed facts. She’s nice, I don’t want to have her blood on my hands.”

 _‘Fight, you fucking coward!’_ Tyler yells inside of his head.

That’s a good advice.

Tyler’s knuckles hurt as his fist slams into Blurryface’s jaw.

Then, the pain returns to Tyler like a boomerang, because Blurryface kicks him in the stomach without thinking twice.

It’s a foul trick, and Tyler’s vision goes black and white for a second, but when he opens his eyes again, he just finds himself standing on his knees on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks on the asphalt.

Blurryface is nowhere to be found.

 

***

Tyler finds Josh in the kitchen when he gets back home; the appetizing smell of pizza fills up the air, and Tyler’s empty stomach starts to grumble from hunger. He takes a deep breath like it might help him conceal his nervousness. Tyler tries to shake his heavy thoughts out of his head, looking at Josh; Josh’s purple hair is still wet after the shower, and he hums something under his breath as Tyler enters the kitchen and sits down onto the chair.

He has to investigate what Josh knows.

“You didn’t follow me,” Tyler says sadly.

“I saw you through the window,” Josh shrugs. “You need some space anyway.”

Tyler’s brain refuses to stomach these words — Josh didn’t see Blurryface.

“Do you keep spying on me?” Tyler huffs.

“No, I just took a look,” Josh hands Tyler a plate with a slice of pizza. “Then decided to cook some dinner for us.”

Alright. Josh hasn’t been watching most of time — he’s probably just missed Tyler’s short fight; Tyler keeps defending his vague sanity, because he just can’t admit that Blurryface has only existed in his sick mind. Tyler has some proofs — his bruised stomach still hurts from being kicked so hard, and he can feel the scratches on his knees from where he hit them on the ground.

“So?” Josh frowns a little when Tyler sets the plate aside.

“I like it.”

Tyler doesn’t feel like himself. He looks into Josh’s brown eyes but only sees Blurryface’s bloody-red ones instead.

 _‘I can make you kill Josh’_ the voice in Tyler’s head whispers. _‘We all know you want it.’_

“No, I don’t want it!” Tyler shouts, slamming his fist on the table and making Josh jump up a little.

“What?” Josh takes the plate out of Tyler’s reach. “If you’re not hungry, then don’t eat, there is no need for screaming.”

“No, no, I’m,” Tyler blinks through the haze swimming in front of his eyes. “Just responded to my thoughts,” he explains, taking the slice.

He’s not a big fan of a seafood pizza, but they don’t have anything else in their fridge. So, Tyler shoves it into his mouth, pretending that the microwave didn’t turn the pizza into something rubber-like.

“You’re acting strange,” Josh says.

“Good to know,” Tyler mutters through the mouthful of food.

The taste gets better with the second slice.

Tyler needs some calories to force his brain to work again.

Josh chuckles a little, going to the fridge and taking two cold cans of RedBull out of it. Tyler perks up as he sees the drinks — he isn’t interested in sleeping anymore. In retrospect, RedBull had always been Tyler’s good friend that had been helping him stay awake for days when Tyler had been working on some files and just couldn’t allow himself to relax.

“I didn’t know we had it,” Tyler wonders as he opens the can.

“Somebody doesn’t even peek into the fridge,” Josh smirks. “What are you going to do when you’ll get a gastric ulcer?”

Tyler takes a small sip.

“Come on, Josh, it will just heal itself.” 

“I just care about your health, Tyler,” Josh sighs, bringing the can to his lips.

“Me too.”

Tyler is hopelessly pessimistic; he thinks their relationship might be over in a few days if Blurryface will keep performing the Mission.

“You’re a dreamer,” Josh’s hand ruffles Tyler’s hair. “But don’t let your dreams catch you.”

“I don’t know why it keeps happening,” Tyler confesses quietly. “We’re in danger, Josh, you are especially. B-be careful, I don’t know, we have to look forward to the future to prevent some horrible things, because I don’t want to see you d-die _again_ ,” Tyler wipes his eye with his sleeve automatically; he can’t let himself cry in front of Josh.

Because Josh already knows how weak Tyler actually is.

“I’m not gonna die,” Josh responds with a tiny smile.

This hurts Tyler even more.

“I don’t know, I hear voices, they’re screaming, and they don’t let me sleep. My dreams just become real, and I’m just standing in the middle of this catastrophe with my hands handcuffed and can’t actually do anything,” Tyler is just venting; though, he can’t just tell Josh those things Blurryface had said. Tyler can’t even _tell_ Josh about Blurryface, but he has to warn him anyway.

“You’ve done a lot of good things,” Josh throws his arm over Tyler’s shoulders.

Josh means comfort.

Tyler nods.

“So I’m pretty sure you can find some guts and kick the voices out of your head,” Josh encourages, patting Tyler’s back a bit. “I’m always here to help.”

Yeah, Tyler needs some help.

“Don’t leave me alone,” Tyler mumbles when Josh moves away from him just a little.

“Never,” Josh promises. “So, let’s take our dinner to the bed and watch some horror-movies to scare the shit out of your demons?”

Josh is an incorrigible optimist, and this gives Tyler some hope.

 

***

Tyler falls asleep during the second half of The Amityville Horror, because Ryan Reynolds doesn’t impress him at all. Though, Josh constantly pokes Tyler’s side to discuss the new plot twist, but Tyler is do drowsy he doesn’t even try to catch Josh’s train of thought, responding only ‘yes’ and ‘I don’t know’.

Tyler comes to conclusion that the trusty RedBull isn’t helping him anymore.

“Good night,” Josh whispers, holding the laptop on his chest with one hand and pinning Tyler to the bed with the other.

Tyler laughs faintly when Josh just grips at the collar of his t-shirt and pulls him a little closer. Like Josh is Tyler’s 24/7 babysitter-boyfriend.

But Tyler’s sleepwalking is as dangerous as his dreams are.

Tyler’s body starts shaking violently when all the bad memories of this evening return, but Josh’s hand on his back takes his tremor away, so Tyler relaxes a little even though his thinking process never stops. He has to predict Blurryface’s intentions.

Tyler doesn’t want to put Josh into this fight, but Josh’s powers might really help them.

 _‘One word and Josh is dead’_ Tyler’s dark side interjects.

Tyler’s thoughts are torturing him non-stop; this is the worst kind of a blackmailing. He just screws his eyes shut and focuses on his own heartbeat not to let the voices yell at him again.

Tyler doesn’t even notice when the slumber pulls him into the viscous darkness.

This time, it mostly looks like choppy chunks of the dream or like a movie trailer. Or like a vision, because some part of Tyler isn’t sure if he’s still sleeping.

There’s the same feeling of seeing everything from Blurryface’s perspective; Tyler notices a black paint on his hands as he looks down. He’s in a two-storey house, hiding in the dark beside the wooden stairs and waiting for the _victim_.

Tyler doesn’t know why Blurryface is showing him all of this, and why he wants to let Tyler know his location.

But then, there is a young girl passes by; she’s dressed in a white bathrobe, and her short blue hair is a little damp.

She looks innocent. The smell of strawberries and mint sneaks into Tyler’s nostrils; he hears the girl’s light footsteps, because Blurryface is standing right behind the girl’s back, and he rubs his palms and fingers, getting ready to jump out of the corner and attack her like a wild animal.

Tyler’s mind is captured in Blurryface’s body.

 _Tyler’s_ mind.

“No!” Tyler screams out loud. Probably, too loud; he jolts awake and sits up, nearly shoving Josh’s laptop off Josh’s chest.

“Hey?!” Josh promptly forgets about his laptop and tugs at the hem of Tyler’s t-shirt. “Nightmares?” he sighs sympathetically.

Tyler clutches his aching head with his wet palms and nods wearily, which only increases the pain. It keeps splashing all over the inside of Tyler’s skull, and the darkness in the room mixes with white and yellow spots created by Tyler’s brain.

Though, he can’t get distracted by his headache after his vision. Tyler shudders at the thought that he might be already late.

Josh hugs him from behind.

“What did you see this time?” Josh chews his bottom lip nervously.

“Josh, listen to me. This might sound weird,” Tyler breathes out. “But I think I know who the n-next victim is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blurry is tyler's clone  
> you're welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are we going to do if we find a body there? Like, a corpse?” Tyler tugs at the laces on his hoodie, making the hood wrap tightly around his neck.
> 
> Josh keeps chewing his mint gum with such an unequivocal facial expression.
> 
> “I dunno. It depends on the amount of blood. I suspect I’m gonna puke all over myself and then probably pass out,” Josh says honestly.

Josh stares at Tyler as if he has at least three heads. Or red eyes. An invisible clock in Tyler’s head keeps ticking, _you’re late, you’re late, you’re late,_ and he slaps Josh’s hands to get himself free quickly.

“Get dressed,” Tyler orders, taking Josh’s jeans from the floor and tossing them at Josh. Then, he finds his own clothes and turns away to zip his pants up. “Josh, hurry up,” Tyler grumbles indignantly.

Josh is the coolest guy Tyler has ever known, but sometimes he just zones out like this.

“Shit, come on,” Tyler groans in despair.

“Where are we going?” Josh finally grabs his jeans, giving Tyler a puzzled glance. “Did you see… the death again?”

“No, no, thank God, not this time,” Tyler rubs his eyebrow. He feels like there’s a tiny compass in his brain, and he _knows_ where a mysterious house from his dream is.

“It’s good,” Josh nods, hooking Tyler’s elbow and leading him out of the bedroom.

Tyler smirks when Josh takes a baseball bat form the corner of the hallway and nods with a satisfied grin. Well, maybe Blurryface can’t stand a physical pain as a human-like creature he is. Tyler almost opens his mouth to warn Josh that they might meet a guy who looks like Tyler, but then there’s a whisper _‘one word, and Josh is dead’_ again, and Tyler loses any desire to talk.

They run down the stairs and out of the apartment building in a rush.

 

***

The night is quite cold, and the vibes of fear make it even colder; Tyler breathes out a little puff of air and clutches the baseball bat harder. Tyler’s heart is beating so violently he thinks he can see the shape of it poking through the fleece of the hoodie on his chest.

“I drive.”

Tyler bounces on the balls of his feet as the nervousness swallows him; Josh inserts the key into the lock in the car’s door.

“No, you can’t,” Josh responds, getting into the driver’s seat and putting his hands onto the steering wheel.

Tyler climbs into the passenger seat, not bothering about buckling himself up; he keeps tapping his leg on the floor as the soft roar of the engine sneaks into his ears.

“So, the address is?..” asking, Josh tucks the strand of his hair underneath his black beanie.

Tyler is grateful that Josh’s hat isn’t red.

“I don’t know,” Tyler shrugs. Anxiety gets replaced with apathy, and the timer in Tyler’s head suddenly beeps and stops.

But they still have to check that place, because Blurryface is such a sly creature.

“Incredible,” Josh sounds beyond pissed. “And how do you want me to find it?”

“Two-storey house. Outskirt,” Tyler says; his words are slurred a bit as he bites the skin around his forefinger’s nail.

“Incredible,” Josh repeats.

“Just watch the road,” Tyler responds. “I think I know the way.”

He can’t ignore Josh’s hands shaking as the car swims through the dark, and only the streetlamps by the roadside give them some hints of light. In Tyler’s opinion, Josh doesn’t even drive fast enough, and Tyler is about to push Josh aside and slam his foot on the gas pedal. But he knows his imagination just slows the world down. Tyler focuses on the road and realizes that Josh isn’t that slow — he’s driving with that ‘the police might stop us’ speed. But there’s no police cars within eyeshot.

“What are we going to do if we find a body there? Like, a corpse?” Tyler tugs at the laces on his hoodie, making the hood wrap tightly around his neck.

Josh keeps chewing his mint gum with such an unequivocal facial expression.

“I dunno. It depends on the amount of blood. I suspect I’m gonna puke all over myself and then probably pass out,” Josh says honestly.

“Ow,” Tyler gives Josh a sign to strike to the left. “You can just wait here then. I’ll check that and call the police if something is, um, wrong,” he offers even though he’s certain Josh is going to go with him no matter what it might bring to them.

The timer starts ticking again, and Tyler smacks his palm on the side of his head, trying to find the button and turn an annoying mechanism off.

“Hey, stop that,” Josh mutters without turning to Tyler.

Tyler puts his hands on his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants and feeling his eyelid jerk a little.

“I’m paranoid,” Tyler says.

“No, you’re not,” Josh sighs shakily.

“Nice. Turn left once again,” the car lurches a little, and it makes Tyler think of the seatbelts. But he just shrugs it off. “We’re close.”

“Who’s the victim? Do you know them?” Josh frowns as the other car crosses the street.

“No,” Tyler gets hypnotized by the lights hitting the window. “It’s a blue-haired girl, I d-don’t remember meeting her before.”

“Well, we’re going to meet her and say ‘hi’, aren’t we?” Josh chuckles bitterly.

“If she’s still alive.”

“Don’t…” Josh hunches his shoulders and slows the car down a little. “This makes me want to be sick.”

“I’m just trying to prepare you,” Tyler rolls his eyes, leaning back on the seat.

“If I’m about to see a fucking corpse, I’m not ready anyway,” Josh spits out furiously. “I’ve never seen dead bodies.”

Yeah, Tyler knows.

“Oh, it’s fascinating,” he quips.

Josh turns to Tyler, getting distracted from an empty road.

“How can you be so cynical?”

“Just don’t want to lose my mind,” Tyler utters.

He has no clue how he’s going to survive if Josh dies anytime soon.

The shit becomes real: Josh drives him through the night God knows where, just to check some random girl from Tyler’s rather disturbing dream. And the worst part of this situation is: Tyler really wants it. No, he wants Josh to stay safe, but if his visions have a hint of truth in them, then Tyler has to follow them.

“Do you know this area?” Tyler asks, looking out of the window.

“Yeah, I was there once,” Josh nods. “Had to deliver a toaster to some extremely tattooed guy but ended up lying unconscious on the lawn. Not the greatest memories,” he winces slightly.

“I remember that,” Tyler wipes his palms on his pants as his heart starts to tremble in his chest again. “Stop there.”

A friendly-looking two storey house at the end of the street makes Tyler want to stop the time.

“This house?” Josh presses the brake pedal.

“I’m pretty sure,” Tyler reaches for the bat while Josh turns on a small flashlight on his phone.

“So,” Josh gets out of the car, and so does Tyler after a second of hesitation. “Let’s think it’s just a movie.”

“Yeah,” Tyler has to agree. A low-budget horror-movie, probably.

Tyler doesn’t want to scare the owner of this wonderful house, so he starts with the knock at the front door. The wooden door is pretty massive, it can definitely protect the girl from the killer Tyler saw in his dream.

But it looks like she isn’t waiting for any guests.

“Try again,” Josh offers as Tyler puts his ear to the door but can’t catch any sounds from within.

Tyler knocks harder, but it doesn’t bring any satisfaction.

“Maybe she’s sleeping?” Josh assumes, rolling up the sleeves of his plaid shirt.

“We have to wake her up then,” Tyler grumbles.

“That’s actually why we’re here,” Josh turns around and walks away from the door.

Honestly, Tyler doesn’t like this idea anymore.

A small lamp above the front door sways sideways, spraying the front porch with a dim light, but the windows are just black and lifeless rectangles. Tyler slams his fist against the door once again, but nothing happens. Holding the bat at his chest level, Tyler hurries after Josh, who is a little too hyperactive from the nervousness.

Well, Tyler gets it. 

 

***

They walk around the house slowly, trying to find the way to get inside; soon enough, Josh lets out a short triumphant ‘pssst’, pointing his finger at the open window on the first floor.

“So. Welcome?” Josh waves his hand, slashing the darkness with the flashlight.

“What’s our strategy?” Tyler jerks his head to peek in the window; he still hesitates to even touch the window frame. What if the alarms will start to yell, and the entire living area will find out about their _innocent_ break-in.

Tyler regrets they haven’t brought any ski-masks with them. Though, it would have made them look even more burglar-y.

“Well,” Josh clamps his gum between his teeth. “Checking, calling the police, hightailing. Something like that,” he says with a half-shrug. “Come on, it was your idea, quit wasting time.”

And of course, Josh is the first to throw his leg over the windowsill and disappear in the impenetrable darkness; Tyler sighs and follows him, moving as silent as possible and getting the baseball bat ready just in case.

There’s no alarm, no dead bodies on the floor, there is nothing.

A white round spot of the flashlight of Josh’s phone bounces across the panel walls, lightning up the row of framed pictures, and Tyler suddenly starts to feel out of place. Like, he was bracing himself for the blood and guts, but there is only a clean wooden floor and a drowsy silence.

“We have to find her,” Josh whispers into Tyler’s ear, nearly scaring the shit out of him. Tyler even presses his hand to his chest in attempt to catch his pounding heart.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Tyler hisses back and then suddenly digs his fingers into Josh’s shoulder. “Wait, do you hear that?!”

Josh falls silent for a moment, and it’s enough to hear quiet and careful footsteps, shifting from the rear. Josh instinctively turns to the sound, and as much as Tyler wants to keep him from doing so, he can’t drag Josh back to face him. A flashlight snatches a shadow-like silhouette but not the one Tyler expects to see; that is probably the reason why he zones out for a millisecond and stops squeezing the bat, losing it from his fingers. Then, Tyler blacks out for real as something incredibly hard and heavy hits his upper back. That baseball bat is his enemy now.

He hears Josh cursing, and a girl screaming, and he’s already on the floor; somebody strikes a punch in Tyler’s crotch, making him let out a pained yelp mixed with a strangled gasp. Tyler feels a body on top of him and hears a lot of indistinct noises; then, the ceiling lights suddenly light the place up, nearly making Tyler’s eyes drip out of the sockets.

Tyler blinks and focuses on the face staring down at him; she has high cheekbones, a little turned-up nose and a short blue hair.

Tyler’s mind was right.

 _‘Thank God, she’s alive’_ is the first thing Tyler thinks of. _‘Oh God, my balls hurt’_ is the second.

Josh stands a few feet away, beside the wall, his hand still on the light switch.

“Uh. Hi?” Tyler starts, moving a little to roll the girl off his thighs.

She’s wearing the same bathrobe Tyler has seen in his dream; the girl quickly shoves her hand into the pocket, and Tyler just winces when he feels a sharp blade of a tiny knife being pressed under his jaw.

“Now I’m ready to talk,” she breathes out heavily.

“Put the knife down, okay?” Josh raises his hands up, still holding his phone with his thumb and forefinger. “We are not going to hurt you.”

Tyler tries to nod, but the hand on his throat doesn’t let him do that.

“Of course I believe you,” the girl spits angrily. “Two guys with baseball bats in my house in the middle of the night; I definitely shouldn’t be scared!”

“But we have only one bat,” Tyler corrects her. “And you’ve n-nearly knocked me out with it.”

Maybe, he and Josh have to accept their defeat.

“Shut up,” the blade twitches in the girl’s hand, leaving a thin cut on Tyler’s neck by accident.

“Hey, don’t touch him!” Josh heads towards Tyler, getting a nasty glare from the girl. Though, she stops poking Tyler with the knife.

“For what?!” Tyler resents. The scrape under his jaw stings a little, and his back goes numb from being pressed down the floor. “We only wanted t-to check if you were okay, I’ve knocked like million times, but you didn’t open the door!”

“Who are you?” she asks, sounding a bit calmer.

“Let him get up and we’ll talk?” Josh tries.

The girl shakes her head.

“Explain, or I’m calling the police,” she turns to Tyler. Tyler looks at the ceiling to avoid looking at the girl’s décolleté right in front of his nose; she notices that and adjusts the bathrobe to cover herself properly.     

“Tell her,” Josh sighs.

Tyler rolls his eyes. The girl is going to think he’s crazy.

“I’m Tyler, and this is my boyfriend Josh, and I saw a weird dream in which you were in danger so we came here to s-save you,” Tyler blurts out.

“Save me?” the girl raises her eyebrow. “With the bat?”

“It wasn’t for you, it was for the murd… for the asshole we were trying to find!” Josh groans.

“So, am I in danger?”

“Do you know anything about the aliens?”

The girl jumps up and drops her hands on Tyler’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“Josh, stop it,” Tyler nearly pleads.

“You’re a couple?” she asks.

“Yes, we are,” Tyler croaks out pathetically. “We didn’t mean to harass you or something; we just wanted to make sure you were okay!”

The girl bites her lip before glaring down at Tyler; Tyler wishes he could shrink smaller, but the knife disappears in the girl’s pocket.

“I’m okay,” she says, hesitating to set Tyler free.

“Cool. Could you please stop wriggling on my, um, on my crotch?..” Tyler gasps slightly.

Tyler is certain he blushes a little, hearing Josh’s faint laughter.

“I’m Halsey, by the way,” the girl smirks as she finally gets up from Tyler.

“Weird name,” Josh interjects.

“It’s an anagram, actually,” Halsey shrugs, wrinkling her nose. “I’m Ashley, if it makes sense, but I changed my name for work. And now I’m gonna call the police.”

“No, please, don’t!” Tyler shouts and jumps on his feet; though, he has to ignore the pain right between his legs, but probably, it’s just a phantom one. Tyler wants to shake hands with his self-healing powers.

Halsey is also not that kind of girl who just sits and cries in the corner when the danger is chasing her.

“Why shouldn’t I do that?” Halsey raises her eyebrow, already reaching for the phone hanging on the wall.

“Because we’re nice guys,” Josh tries.

“Explain me that joke about the aliens, and maybe then I’ll change my mind about making a call,” Halsey crosses her arms over her chest, still looking pissed.

Tyler doesn’t think his question can make the situation even more preposterous.

“Have you ever seen something extraordinaire? Like, the lights on the sky or something like that?” he winces as he asks so. Their night trip hasn’t had any sense from the very beginning, it’s crystal clear now.

“No?” Halsey frowns, her hand is about to touch the phone again.

“Fine, we’re leaving,” Josh nods. “Have a good night, stay safe, don’t talk to strangers, and don’t play with matches” he adds.

Tyler is surprised that Halsey didn’t interrupt Josh’s lecture by the slap across the face or something equally degrading.

“You’re lovable freaks,” she concludes with a weak smile. “But why did you see me in your dream, Tyler?”

“Well, it’s a long story,” Tyler says cagily.

He is definitely not going to tell her everything like it’s a bedtime story.

“Tyler is an ufologist,” Josh says before winking at Tyler. Tyler nods in agreement. “And he probably has the bond with all the Contactees, and some of them are in danger…”

“Enough,” Halsey scratches a match-tattoo on her left forearm. “Let’s pretend it was just a coincidence; you’re leaving and everything is going to be fine, right?”

“But… Be careful,” Josh repeats.

Halsey literally giggles at his words.

“Dude, believe me, I know how to restrain a guy,” she points at Tyler. “Months of living with my abusive ex and my job have taught me to fight when it’s necessary.”

“Yeah, I believe you,” Tyler agrees politely. “And your job is-”

He finally decides to distract himself and look around the hallway like it might help him feel less mortified and beaten down.  

“I sing in the clubs, and sometimes some creeps try to hit on me, so I have to protect myself from them. I’m good at that,” Halsey says proudly.

Tyler looks at the pictures on the wall; it’s mostly abstract drawings of flowers and ocean. Tyler’s intuition tells him Halsey drew that by herself. No, he _knows_ that. Tyler’s hand slides against the wooden railings, cold and smooth; he almost wants to find one single splinter there, but everything in his house is too perfect and too clean to be real.

“Sick. Alright, we gotta go,” Josh almost apologizes as he yanks at Tyler’s wrist and urges him to go.

Tyler doesn’t feel anything except guilt. His brain fooled him again, _Blurryface_ fooled him, and Josh probably starts to think bad things about Tyler’s mental health.

Halsey doesn’t try to lock them here anymore — she only adjusts her white bathrobe again and softly touches Tyler’s shoulder.

“What it’s like to be an ufologist?” she asks, guiding them back to the front door.

“It’s like trying to catch a deer with bare hands,” Tyler replies without thinking.

“Cool metaphor, Ty,” Josh hisses out, grabbing the back of Tyler’s hoodie and shoving him out of the door.

Halsey leans against the doorframe and keeps staring at them.

“Your life is probably very interesting.”  

“Yes, I’d prefer it to be a bit boring,” Tyler responds; he nearly trips over his own shoe as he takes a step towards Josh’s car parked near the fence.

“Sorry for bothering you,” Josh sighs. “It seems like the new UFOs aren’t going to appear here anytime soon.”

“Yeah, it looks like that,” Halsey chuckles before closing the door shut.

 

***

Tyler suddenly feels cold like he’s taking an ice bath and slowly drowning in it; he chokes on the air and begins to cough, a flow of shivers rushes through his skin. Though, he feels a little warmer when he gets into the passenger seat and Josh starts the engine.

“Josh, I’m sorry,” Tyler mutters, but Josh just cringes in response.

“It’s okay, we had to go and check it anyway,” Josh pulls his beanie down to his eyes and smiles a little. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

Tyler is glad, too. Tyler’s tattoos aren’t shining.

“I swear, I saw _her_ in my dream, but why was that?” Tyler doesn’t think his raging adrenaline will let him get some sleep tonight.

“Maybe it was just a dream?” Josh assumes, concentrating on watching the road.

Tyler wants to slap himself for distracting his boyfriend.

“Who knows. Maybe it was,” Tyler says grumpily. Josh doesn’t even drive fast, and Tyler mostly feels like he’s on the boat, not in the car. It’s strangely comforting.

Josh replies something incoherent, but Tyler finally lets his tensed mind relax and just floats in the space between the reality and slumber all the way back home. He’s only half-awake when the car suddenly stops, throwing Tyler forward and off his seat. He even screws his eyes shut, getting ready to take the hit against the car’s dashboard, but he lets out a sigh of relief as he realizes he’s buckled up.

Thanks, Josh.

Tyler fumbles with the seatbelt while Josh taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Well, let’s get home and get some more sleep?” Josh’s warm hand brushes over Tyler’s hair. “Or we can, well, if you want…”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I don’t want anything,” Tyler replies hastily. “Just sleep.”

Josh huffs but doesn’t offer anything else.

Tyler crawls under the blankets and curls into himself as soon as he enters the bedroom; he feels Josh’s strong arm on his waist and closes his eyes as a burning headache starts devouring his brain again. Tyler focuses on his and Josh’s breathing, willing his headache not to grow into a full-blown migraine.

Surprisingly, it works.

This time, in his dreams Tyler sees nothing but darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can’t tell Josh.
> 
> Again, Josh doesn’t press.

The autumn is violent; there are cold rainy days and dark evenings, and Tyler’s sleep-deprived mind is beyond tired. Tyler is afraid of even thinking of falling asleep; he’s scared of his own head, of what he’s going to see next.

He has no doubt a big storm is coming.

A week has passed since that ‘break-in incident’, and Tyler is sincerely grateful that it hasn’t changed their relationship in general. Even Blurryface keeps quiet all that time; he stops yelling in Tyler’s head, but anyway, Tyler knows that he exists. It dispirits him.

Though, Josh is nervous, too; one day, Tyler is lying on the bed with his eyes closed, but the sleep doesn’t come. Josh is right here, Tyler can feel his warmth and the light movements of the mattress as Josh sits up and whispers something under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asks wearily.

Josh replies a little too quick.

“Everything is alright.” 

“Really?”

Tyler rubs his forehead, it feels warmer than it’s supposed to be. Tyler kind of tries to figure out if he’s already hallucinating or not. Well, Josh still seems to be pretty real.

“My Mom just texted,” Josh explains, curling the corner of his mouth into a smile. “She wants to see us.”

“So,” Tyler props himself up with his elbows and leans against the pile of pillows. “Is she going to meet us there? Like, we have to cook the dinner and clean everything?”

His voice cracks.

At least, Tyler isn’t scared of Josh’s Mom, and he’s proud of it.

“No, not like this,” Josh heaves out a sigh full of concern. “She wants us to visit her and, like, finally meet my family? What do you think, Ty?”

Tyler thinks it’s gonna be awkward. If he’s okay when he’s talking to Laura, it doesn’t mean he’s great at having heart-to-hearts with Josh’s Dad and his siblings. Tyler is so exhausted he can’t even tell if Mrs Dun’s offer has caught him off guard.

“I’m not a sociable person,” he warns.

Josh’s smile disappears without a trace.

“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to! I can understand what you’re feeling right now,” Josh kicks the blanket off, reaching for a charger on a bedside table. “We can meet them when you’re ready, and when this shit with the Contactees is over. My family is a bit unpredictable.”

Josh never presses on Tyler. But now Josh’s kindness only makes Tyler feel worse.

“We gotta meet your family,” Tyler decides. He rolls onto his back and looks at the small reflections on Josh’s phone’s screen.

“Are you sure?” Josh asks in a more cheerful tone.

“Yes, Josh, I’m sure,” Tyler starts getting angry all of the sudden. “Don’t treat me like I’m a kid or… or like I’m m-mentally ill.”

Tyler’s head _is_ screwed up, even though he keeps denying that. But he has a fucking clone from Space, so maybe Tyler has a right to be crazy.

Josh’s fingers tap on the screen as he types the message, completely ignoring Tyler’s words.

“Am I mentally ill?” Tyler pinches Josh’s tattooed shoulder to get his attention.

“We’re coming next Friday, is this okay?” Josh asks at the same time.

“Yes,” Tyler huffs out. “Answer my question,” he pinches Josh again, hard enough to make Josh yank his hand away.

“Ouch,” Josh laughs a little nervously. “You have gleaming tattoos and visions. Of course, I think it’s totally fine.”

Josh has a superpower he doesn’t even know about- he saves Tyler’s life literally every day, every minute they spend together, and Tyler can’t even put this into words. Maybe it’s a true love. And yes, Tyler is going to go and meet Josh’s whole family to repay him.

Josh finally sends the message and throws his phone on the mattress. Tyler presses his nose to the crook of Josh’s neck.

“I don’t want to disappoint your parents.” 

“Don’t worry, they’re polite enough not to tell you that,” Josh tries to joke, ruffling Tyler’s hair.

Tyler hates being touched, he can say. But Josh’s touches are completely different — always gentle and careful, they can show Tyler what’s real and what’s just a product of his sick mind. A few years back Tyler liked to cuddle with Jenna, any tactile contacts were totally normal for them; though, Tyler was too blind and too busy to realize that he was more than just a friend. Jenna probably still regrets their failed relationship. She was okay with his quirks, and she didn’t try to get into his pants. Though, for some random people they looked like the sweetest couple. Probably.

Now, Tyler is too stubborn to admit it.

 

***

Needless to say, Tyler’s anxiety keeps torturing him all the next week. He even finds an advantage in that — in Wednesday he falls asleep on the couch in front of TV, watching a movie about the dude with a chainsaw and wakes up in the morning, lying in the bed with Josh by his side.

“Wow,” Tyler mumbles, seeing the 10:35am on the digital clock and trying to unlock Josh’s hands, wrapped tightly around his waist.

He didn’t expect sleeping this long.

“It’s our day off,” Josh grunts sleepily.

“Do we have any plans?” Tyler yawns and then rubs his face with both palms. He’s almost forgotten that the sleep feels so good.

“Yes. We’re going to do nothing. All day,” Josh says, pulling the blanket over them.

Tyler kind of wants to sleep some more, but his anxious thoughts send signals through his body, squeeze his chest, making his heart clench painfully. He doesn’t know what keeps bothering him, but his mood isn’t that bright anymore.

“Dreams again?” Josh asks sympathetically.

Tyler translates it from Josh’s language like ‘did you see the murder again?’

Tyler wants to cry at the thought he might lose Josh one day.

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “Nothing. I just passed out, I guess.”

Oh God, staring at the darkness felt wonderful.

“You’re pushing yourself so hard,” Josh sighs. “Ty, you need to take some rest. I’ll get some coffee for us.”

Tyler doesn’t even like coffee. It doesn’t even keep him awake.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Tyler agrees, smiling faintly.

 _‘Josh is so annoying,’_ the voice in Tyler’s head whispers.

Oh no.

Tyler clamps his palms over his ears as soon as Josh leaves the room and heads to the kitchen.

_‘Why do you always let Josh decide?’_

“Go away,” Tyler mutters under his breath.

He was almost ready for Blurryface’s return.

Tyler only hears the blood rushing in his ears and the kettle whistling furiously in the kitchen. Maybe, controlling Tyler’s clone is much easier than Tyler thought.

He plasters a smile on his face as Josh gets back to the bedroom with two steaming cups of coffee, the smell makes Tyler sniffle; Tyler’s mind is now completely blocked from Blurryface’s invasions, and he hopes he’ll be able to hold it back at least all the morning.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?” Tyler lifts his head up to meet Josh’s worried glance. “Everything is okay.”

“Of course,” Josh huffs. “If it’s one of your paranormal things, we should definitely talk about it.”

He gently hands Tyler the cup; Tyler brings it to his lips, letting a hot steam brush over the lower half of his face.

_‘We can get rid of him.’_

“There’s nothing paranormal, Josh,” Tyler smiles a little wider. “I’m just anxious. I don’t see those dreams anymore, so I don’t know what’s h-happening right now. I think I should get back to my investigations,” he suddenly says, feeling a stinging hotness spreading in his chest.

Josh takes a small sip of his coffee.

“It’s impossible. VESSEL won’t let us,” he points out. “I can’t even use my powers, and you have already done that thing with Paul,” he pauses. “It almost killed you, and I’m sure there are more terrible consequences to come.”

Tyler doesn’t know what to do. A ghostly-quiet voice starts whispering again, something like _‘he’s just stopping you’_. A hot liquid burns Tyler’s esophagus, but it feels fine a few seconds later.

He can’t tell Josh.

Again, Josh doesn’t press.

“Hey, Ty?”

Tyler realizes he has just zoned out again.

“What?”

Dialogues like this one start to irritate him. But probably, Josh just tries to check his reaction this way.

“Wanna go out today?” Josh licks his lips before continuing. “Like, I mean, we can go somewhere or just play basketball, something like that.”

Tyler doesn’t feel like doing any of those. He just lowers his head and looks at the blue blanket — it now has some tiny brown coffee-stains. They’re round and they remind Tyler of drops of blood. He will always feel guilty for ruining so many bedsheets with his stupid nosebleeds. Tyler’s hands are shaking, making the coffee splash all over the inside of a cup; Tyler finally gives up and puts it onto the bedside table.

“You don’t have to try to entertain me, Josh, really, it’s fine,” Tyler utters, wiping his mouth on the back of his palm.

“I’m not trying,” Josh shrugs. “I just don’t want you to sit here all day and stare at the wall. The life goes on, Ty, but we can’t even enjoy it.”

Tyler raises his head up so abruptly his neck crunch a little.

“And now you want to say I’m boring?” he asks sarcastically. “Do you regret you’ve gotten involved into this?”

Josh facepalms with a loud smack.

“Oh God, no! Why do you always need to quip? I just want to take care of you.”

“So sweet,” Tyler huffs and reaches for a cup again. He kind of wants to pour some RedBull in his coffee. “I think you’re being overdramatic.”

“Fine,” Josh nearly snaps. “Stay home if you want. I’m staying too.”

Tyler is sure Josh isn’t going to leave him alone because of those ‘incidents’.

“Mutual trust is wonderful,” Tyler grumbles, finishing his still hot coffee in one go.

 

***

The day goes in a blur, the ringing in Tyler’s ears gets less violent when it’s almost evening. Though, he realizes they haven’t even left the bed all day, but thinking back of it, Tyler can’t even remember what they have been doing all that time.

Tyler doesn’t think his sudden drowsiness is a sign of a good health. He’s probably coming down with something, even though he’s never had flu or rhinitis or the other things humans might suffer from. Because he’s not a human no matter how hard he tries to mask it. Tyler shudders and pulls the blanket up to his chin. It’s just 10pm, but he’s certainly about to fall asleep (honestly, he’s been pretending sleeping for all the past hour) while Josh is watching some sci-fi show with his headphones on.

Josh’s phone buzzes under Tyler’s thigh, and Tyler squirms to let Josh take it without touching him. Though, he feels Josh’s invisible hand touch his ass under the blanket anyway. Tyler feels his cheeks grow hot and sighs sleepily not to show he’s awake.

“Yeah, Mom?” Josh answers the call cheerfully. “No, we haven’t changed our minds, calm down. We’re coming, yes. Tyler is excited,” Josh laughs a little.

Tyler wants to cover up a growing crack in his and Josh’s relationship. Maybe, Josh’s Mom has telepathic abilities and can save them from breaking up.

“We’re fine, why are you asking?”

Tyler swallows the lump in his throat and rolls onto his side.

_‘I want to tell him about my clone.’_

_‘Well, that’s going to be the last thing Joshie is going to know about.’_

The war in Tyler’s brain recrudesces.

“Tell Laura I miss her,” Tyler mutters. It sounds pretty loud though.

Josh smiles warmly; Tyler knows how Josh’s voice sounds when he’s smiling even though he doesn’t look at him.

“Yeah, she misses you too,” he responds. “See you all this Friday. Bye.”

The air thickens. Tyler can’t stand it.

“Do you want to see the stars?” Tyler asks as soon as Josh drops his phone onto his lap.

“What do you mean?” Josh squints his eyes a little.

“We still have my telescope,” Tyler explains, rolling off the bed only to find a box under it, covered in dust.

“Wow,” Josh exclaims. “I thought you weren’t going to work with that again.”

“It’s not only for work.”

Tyler is happy that he hadn’t trashed his pretty expensive telescope along with all of his equipment. He still can’t get a full picture of what happened that day — Tyler only knows he was terrified. And he wanted to kill Josh. Well, _They_ told him so.

Tyler shakes his head when the memories start to creep in his mind again.

Josh helps him drag the box from underneath the bed and then wrinkles his nose and sneezes as the dust begins to curl in the air. Tyler is not sentimental at all, but he kind of wants to cry for the third time this day as he sees a long and shiny tube. Tyler takes the tripod out of the box and installs it, making sure it isn’t going to slip on the floor. He wipes some dust off the main tube and turns it to the open window. It takes some time to find a good position, and Josh works on the adjustment to help Tyler find a focus. Tyler’s chest feels tight, and his heart flutters while he watches Josh frowning and squinting at the eyepiece.

“I’ve always wanted one when I was a kid,” Josh says with a half-smile. “Wanted to be closer to Space, to touch it.”

‘Touching Space might kill you’, Tyler wants to say.

“Well. Now you can use it,” Tyler chuckles, rubbing his palms as the cold air from the window starts to tickle his bare skin.

“Yeah, finally,” Josh nods. “I think I see something,” he mutters, moving the tube a little. “Uh, no, it was just some dirt.”

Tyler looks at the crumbs of stars on the clear sky and lets the melancholy hit him. He even reaches his hand out into the darkness, rolling up his sleeve and watching the tiny yellow rays running over the contours of the hieroglyphs on his forearm. The gleaming doesn’t stay for long — it just sends sparkles down the pattern and soaks through Tyler’s tanned skin.

“You know, some of those stars are already dead, but we can still see their lightning,” Tyler looks at the sky absently.

“So very cliché,” Josh laughs quietly, still keeping his eye on some moving objects. “It’s like I’m in a middle school again.”

“Because some things never change,” Tyler replies. “We’ll never know when the black hole will swallow our lovely planet.”

“Whatever,” Josh reaches his hand to take Tyler’s palm. “I hope it won’t happen,” he adds a second later.

“Yeah, I hope, too,” Tyler nods his head. “But we’re just a cosmic dust anyway.”

“Wait,” Josh stops leaning against the telescope, looking straight at Tyler. “You said _our_ planet, it’s like- ours. Despite your extraterrestrial origin. I’m proud of you,” he pats Tyler’s shoulder.

“I don’t remember anything anyway,” Tyler shrugs. “I found my home here. Well, you f-found me.”

He doesn’t know why thinking of their first meetings still feels awkward. Even more awkward than Tyler’s attempts to figure out his sexuality.

“Jenna said you shouldn’t remember anything,” Josh points out. Tyler can’t help but notice Josh’s brown eyes are incredibly sad.

_‘It’s your fault.’_

“Probably. But anyway, I’d like to have more information about myself, I’m not a fan of surprises,” Tyler says, pressing his palm to the tube. “Hey! It’s my turn to watch!”

Josh raises his hands up jokingly and takes a step so Tyler can occupy the telescope; he turns it to catch a full Moon and see some craters even though his telescope is not that powerful. Josh keeps saying something about the constellations, endless galaxies and satellites; he says he’d watched NASA live video-translation from Space last night.

“It’s like round-the-clock translation, we can watch it together, if you want,” Josh offers, running his fingers through his curly hair.

“Sounds cool,” Tyler agrees.

With that, Josh goes to take his laptop from the living room while Tyler still tries to spot any flying saucers on the black canvas of the night sky.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh locks all the knives in the drawer in the kitchen, and it’s all because of Tyler’s addictions.
> 
> Josh watches him when he’s shaving, Josh knocks at the bathroom door when Tyler takes a shower longer than fifteen minutes. Just some precautionary measures. Josh isn’t paranoid — he just doesn’t want to find a cold dead body in his apartment one day. Honestly, Tyler isn’t sure if his abilities will let him die.

“Josh, quit staring at me all the time.”

Tyler chuckles softly as he spreads a handful of shaving cream all over his chin and cheeks.

“I’m not staring,” Josh snorts.

They’re getting ready (both morally and physically) to finally meet Josh’s family for the first time, and Tyler’s legs are trembling when he thinks he has to show his good side; he’s not sure if his good side is still _that_ good. So, Tyler tries to look presentable, at least.

But Tyler knows that Josh keeps watching him to prevent him from hurting himself again. Josh is just standing right behind him even though the mirror in the bathroom is not big enough for the two of them. The shower cabin is too small as well. The kitchen is just tiny. _‘This apartment was not meant for a married couple,’_ Tyler thinks. Of course, because Josh hadn’t planned to bring a random guy from the woods here. Of course. But he has a double bed, which is good.

“What are we going to tell your parents?” Tyler asks, squeezing a safety razor in his palm as if Josh might attack him and take it.

Josh’s glance is focused on Tyler’s bare wrist. That’s not right.

“What?”

“Josh, I can’t cut myself using this,” Tyler waves his hand, still holding a razor.

“I know.”

Josh starts to straighten his messy hair despite the fact that he’s not the one to care about his hairstyle too much — Josh usually just dyes it and covers it with a snapback, but today is something special. Josh avoids Tyler’s eyes and tousles his curls again, the color has faded from purple to light pink, some bleached strands are mixed with Josh’s natural dark color. Tyler just contemplates this for a second before turning back to the sink (it’s so white it makes Tyler’s eyes hurt); Josh looks over Tyler’s shoulder, nearly bringing his hand up to snatch the razor when Tyler sinks it in the foam on his face.

“I’m just…” Josh jerks his arm away from him.

Tyler groans.

“What about to stop being paranoid?” he asks sarcastically.

He always fails when he tries to start a regular conversation.

“I’m not paranoid,” Josh rolls his eyes in exhaustion.

“Leave me alone then,” Tyler says as he starts to scrub the stubble off his chin. He thinks it looks ridiculous. “Let me shave.”

Josh doesn’t trust him anymore, it’s obvious, and this thought devours Tyler from the inside, urging his anxiety to surface again. And the other thoughts are there, popping up from the trap of Tyler’s subconscious, all at once.

_Tyler is a trouble._

Josh locks all the knives in the drawer in the kitchen, and it’s all because of Tyler’s addictions. Josh watches him when he’s shaving, Josh knocks at the bathroom door when Tyler takes a shower longer than fifteen minutes. Just some precautionary measures. Josh isn’t paranoid — he just doesn’t want to find a cold dead body in his apartment one day. Honestly, Tyler isn’t sure if his abilities will let him die. He’s pretty good at healing himself, but that one time when he woke up on the bathroom floor with a pretty bad gash across his wrist scared him shitless. Tyler still can’t remember how that razorblade found its way into his hand. But he still remembers the oceans of pure terror in Josh’s eyes.

This makes Tyler’s heart speed up and burst inside his chest.

“Alright, Josh. You can stay,” Tyler mutters through a thick layer of white cream on his face.

And of course, Josh stays here with him.

 

***

Tyler is afraid to leave his comfort zone. They’re driving for nearly an hour, and the disturbing feeling increases in direct proportion to their distance from the apartment building.

“Don’t be so nervous,” Josh just says as they pass by the wood. Tyler kind of misses _his_ wood.

“We don’t know what m-might happen,” Tyler chokes out. He suddenly wants to fight Josh and pull at the steering wheel to drive back home.

Tyler jumps on his seat when a huge truck appears from a literal nowhere, nearly smashing the driver’s side of Josh’s car with a whistling rumble and disappearing in the end of the road. It’s a sign, and not a good one.

Josh is petrified, face pale with light tinges of a feverish blush across his cheeks; his chest rises and falls as he tries to calm his nerves. Tyler thinks melancholically of their guts, smeared down the road, of the remains of their mangled bodies, trampled in the pile of metal. It’s disgustingly aesthetic.

“Wow,” Josh hisses out, slowly getting back to the track. “What a surprise.”

“Yeah. I d-didn’t expect that, too,” Tyler stammers out, scared of the images in his _sick_ brain. He wishes he could figure out why his probable mental illness makes such a quick progress.

Josh’s voice slashes the void gathering in Tyler’s head.

“This is something we’re not going to tell my parents about, okay?” 

“We are not going to talk to your p-parents about this,” Tyler repeats obediently.

“Right,” Josh shoots him with a worried glance.

If Josh is going to ask if Tyler is okay, Tyler is going to slap him.

But Josh just sighs and promptly bites his tongue.

 

***

When they finally arrive at Josh’s parents’ house without getting hit by any massive vehicles, Tyler forgets how his tongue works, forgets how to inhale and exhale, so Josh has to take a minute to try and make Tyler less anxious.

“It’s gonna be just fine, right?” Josh murmurs as he takes Tyler’s hands and squeezes them to distract Tyler from his dark thoughts.

Tyler shakes his head.

“The last time you were there, you woke up with a superpower,” he whispers. 

With a superpower he’s not even allowed to use, Tyler thinks. Poor Josh is going to explode from all that energy.

“This still fucks me up,” Josh cackles, pulling on his ‘everything is fine and dandy’ mask.

Josh’s first Contact had happened there, in the backyard, more than ten years ago; Tyler is pretty sure he can already feel the energy of this place, it crawls under his skin and soaks through his bones. It’s pretty similar to a cosmic energy in a cornfield they’d been surrounded by during their walk from VESSEL laboratory a few months ago. That had left Tyler with a splitting headache, a nosebleed, and with a terrified Josh; Tyler still keeps thinking of it, and it still causes a nagging pain in Tyler’s limbs.

He didn’t know Josh’s house was full of a foreign energy. He’s aware that Josh’s parents still deny the fact their son is actually a Contactee.

“I can feel it,” Tyler says, looking towards the white fence.

“Aliens’ presence?” Josh chuckles, but the hint of worry wipes his smile off.

“I’m not sure,” Tyler presses his fingers to his pulsating temples. “But honestly, I don’t feel good,” he confesses. “I’m hella nervous.”

“Just one day,” Josh nearly begs, his hand is placed on Tyler’s forehead. It soothes some of the vibrations in his brain, but Tyler’s head still feels quite heavy. Or maybe he thinks it does.

Tyler flinches and closes his eyes when Josh’s phone starts to buzz in his pocket.

“It’s my Mom,” Josh explains, voice soft not to provoke Tyler. “I’m pretty sure she’s watching us from the kitchen window.”

Josh ignores the call.

Tyler thinks it’s funny.

Then, Tyler suddenly sneezes, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Josh turns to unlock the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Tyler smiles. He thinks he has to conceal his real emotions if he wants to be a part of a lovely Dun’s family.

He works hard on convincing himself that he’s brave enough, and he’s not going to pass out in front of Josh’s Mom; come on, Josh’s Mom thinks that Tyler is just a skinny and sick boy who just craves to be protected. Tyler hates that even though he’s kind of agreed with that.

Tyler stumbles onto the stone-paved path, feeling a weird energy burning the soles of his battered Vans’ as he takes the first step towards Josh’s parents’ house. Josh makes him increase his pace, hooking Tyler’s elbow and whispering ‘don’t worry’ into his ear.

Tyler feels like he’s just run a mile.

“Well, um,” Tyler says when Laura Dun opens the door and reaches her hands to hug Josh and then Tyler. “Hello.”

Josh’s smile is so wide it almost looks unnatural.

“Hey, Mom.” 

“Hello, boys, come in,” Laura greets them, waving her hand towards the living room.

Living room means more people, and Tyler promptly wipes his wet palms on the hem of his dark hoodie. He now regrets he’s not wearing his nice white shirt, it would have made Tyler look more elegant.

Josh’s touch against Tyler’s shoulder only makes Tyler want to scream and shudder, to run away maybe.

The smell of the apple pie and cinnamon taunts Tyler’s nostrils and his empty stomach; Josh leads him to the couch in the living room while Laura disappears in the kitchen to check the dinner.

“Hi,” Tyler mumbles, gazing at his fuzzy red socks not to look at Josh’s Dad who stands right in front of him.

Josh tries to save the day, as always, he shakes hands with his father even though he keeps looking at Josh accusingly.

“It’s Tyler,” Josh explains and points his thumb at Tyler.

“This is my name,” Tyler agrees politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“Bill,” Josh’s Dad replies with a restrained nod.

For Tyler it’s a big attainment to finally lift his head up and meet Mr. Dun’s glance. He doesn’t look like he’s going to kick Tyler out of the room, so the clouds swirling above him are not that dark.

Josh chews his bottom lip while Bill’s hand grips Tyler’s as if he wants to make sure Tyler is strong enough. Well, Tyler _is_ strong. When Josh’s Dad seems to be satisfied by the handshake, he lets Tyler unclench his fingers and finally sit down.

“Nice to meet you,” Bill echoes Tyler’s words. Tyler smiles; his cheeks feel like they’re made of wax. Oh God, this is so awkward Tyler wants to sink through the ground.

Tyler places his hands between his knees and focuses on his surroundings; there’s the stairs in the corner of the room — it’s probably a way to make it to the bedroom. Tyler sighs quietly — they’re going to spend the night there, it upsets him. He hopes his nightmares won’t chase him tonight.

Bill reads the newspaper, sitting on a chair beside the couch; everything is almost fine. Maybe, Tyler really deserves this.

“Ashley! Abby! Jordan!” Laura’s voice from the kitchen startles him.

Seconds pass, turning to minutes; Tyler rubs his palms nervously.

“The dinner is almost ready!”

No one comes though. Josh winces at his mother’s yelling.

“Are your siblings home?” Tyler asks in a hoarse whisper.

“Yeah, they’re probably in their rooms upstairs,” Josh shrugs. “You’ll like them, I promise.”

Tyler doesn’t know why he’s so insecure these days.

“Mom! Abby said I look like a witch!”

Tyler’s heart thuds against his ribs when a girl’s voice dissects this almost peaceful atmosphere in the room. He turns to the stairs and sees a girl in a dark wide-brimmed hat; the girl runs downstairs with such angry facial expression.

“Maybe she was right, Ashley? Bill utters skeptically and sets his newspaper aside.

Ashley just pouts and rubs her septum piercing.

“Just want to be as cool as my favorite big brother,” Ashley replies carelessly. She crosses the room to pull Josh into a tight hug.

“Hey, little sister,” Josh grins, his smile is more sincere this time. “How are Jordan and Abby doing?”

“They’re working on Jordan’s assignment. Well, Abby is going to finish it for him while he plays dumb,” Ashley giggles, tucking a little curly strand of her long dark hair behind her ear.

Tyler shifts on the couch and gives Josh and his sister more space. He thinks he’s going to excuse himself to go to use the bathroom, because no one pays their attention on him anyway.

“Nice socks, buddy,” Ashley pats Tyler’s shoulder as she says so.

Tyler tries to hide his feet under the couch. Red isn’t good enough, probably.

“Nice, um, hat?” it’s more of a question, but Ashley accepts it gratefully.

“Thanks, Ty!” she pats Tyler’s shoulder once again. Tyler tries not to flinch when her long nails dig into the fabric of his hoodie. “Dad, did you hear that? Tyler likes my style,” Mr. Dun just chuckles in response. Meanwhile, Ashley keeps ‘torturing’ Tyler, turning everything into a joke. “Ty, you don’t think I’m a witch, _right_?”

“Ash, stop it,” Josh catches her hand when she tries to pat Tyler’s shoulder for the third time.

“Why?” Ashley licks a red lipstick off the corner of her mouth. “He’s cute.”

“No, you’re n-not a witch,” Tyler’s tongue weights a ton as he begins to speak.

“Thanks. This was very important to my self-confidence,” Ashley nods. “Alright, gonna go and help Mom decorate the pie with a whipped cream,” she says as she hurries to the kitchen and nearly trips over her long brown skirt.

“She’s going to eat all of the whipped cream,” Josh whispers into Tyler’s ear. “But it’s a secret.”

Tyler is definitely going to drown in the sea of embarrassment.

 

***

Little by little, Tyler urges himself to calm down as he says a short hello to Josh’s other sister, Abby — she only gives him a polite smile and adjusts the glasses on the bridge of her nose. Jordan is more talkative — he says that he needs to find somebody for his basketball team, and if Tyler doesn’t mind, they can meet and play with Jordan and his friends one day. Tyler acquiesces.

When the whole Josh’s family gathers at the table, Tyler can’t stop thinking about his and Josh’s superpowers — Josh’s parents switch the topic when Josh starts to talk about the new X-files, but they don’t know Josh can actually turn the table upside down.

But now Josh is pretty good at controlling his telekinesis.

The smell of a homemade food is so wonderful that Tyler kind of envies Josh, because he had a chance to grow up with a family, with breakfasts at home and lunchboxes at school, with long night conversations with his sisters and brother.

Tyler likes it. He just doesn’t like the energy that permeates the air like cold and solid streaks, almost tangible.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Bill asks, narrowing his eyes.

Tyler nearly chokes on a mouthful of lasagna; he forces himself to swallow it while Josh replies for him.

“Tyler likes ufol... um... astronomy,” Josh says with a soft smile. “We kind of… our relationship started due to our _common_ hobby.”

Tyler wants to throw the fork onto the plate but lays it down carefully not to ruin his reputation.

“Yes,” he says, pinching Josh’s thigh underneath the table. Josh giggles and moves aside along with the chair, dragging it across the wooden floorboards.

Tyler instinctively looks down to check if there are any scratches on the floor.

Josh’s Dad sighs, barely holding back a chuckle. Tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes are pretty similar to Josh’s when he smiles.

The next few hours pass without any embarrassing incidents (and without any conversations about any supernatural things); Josh’s Mom keeps offering them to eat an apple pie with a crown of a whipped cream, and honestly, Tyler doesn’t refuse when the third piece magically appears on his plate. He and Josh are both professionals at only microwaving the pizzas, so maybe Tyler doesn’t have to constantly feel guilty for eating this delicious food with the Dun family.

They’re talking a lot; Ashley shares stories about the dudes from her art class who can’t even draw a circle but think they’re future Picasso and Dali. This doesn’t make any sense for Tyler because he doesn’t even remember the last time he held a pencil in his hand let alone drew anything. 

Abby blushes a little as she talks about the guy she’s going to go to prom with, and Jordan immediately starts making those ‘no sex until marriage’ jokes. It’s awkward. Tyler likes that he’s not the only one who feels awkward. He can see the questions in Josh’s parents’ eyes, because Laura is probably still worried about their first meeting and their nasty bruises, but Tyler is glad she doesn’t bring that up right now. She only says she’s happy for them. And Tyler believes her because he has no choice.

It’s pitch dark outside, and the sounds of the night start to sneak into the room through the open windows; that’s the time when Tyler and Bill have finally found a topic to discuss. Tyler says he’s working in the auto repair service, and Bill asks him why the engine in his beaten Toyota makes these weird roaring noises. Tyler almost agrees to go to the garage and quickly check the car out.

“You can do this tomorrow, Bill,” Laura persuades. “Let the boy rest.”

Rest means sleep and sleep means nightmares. Tyler would prefer to spend the night with his hands plunged into motor oil rather lie in bed and suffer from the visions.

But Bill promptly agrees with his wife and wishes Tyler a good night in a rush.

“That’s what we call a perfect relationship,” Josh laughs, watching his father heading to the bedroom.

Laura smacks his hand with a wet towel.

“It’s time to go to sleep, boys. It was a long day,” she says good-naturedly.

“Yeah,” Josh nods with a yawn. “It was.”

 

***

Tyler likes Josh’s small bedroom as soon as he enters it — it has some childhood vibes, mostly because his parents haven’t re-designed this room yet; the bed isn’t actually that big, but Tyler is sure they’re gonna fit and sleep in a tight embrace with each other.

“Rocket ships print, so cute,” Tyler smirks, smoothing down some crinkles on the bedsheets.

“It’s not mine, it’s Jordan’s,” Josh tries to defend himself, but he doesn’t sound confident.

“Come on, Josh, we all know it’s your style,” Tyler teases. He takes blue and grey striped pajama pants from the chair and starts to unbuckle his belt. “Would you mind if I borrow these?”

“No, take it, sure,” Josh replies, tugging his yellow t-shirt over his head.

“Thanks.”

Tyler doesn’t want to appear in the hallway in only his briefs and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt during his probable sleepwalking fad. He slides underneath the thick blanket, suddenly feeling like falling asleep immediately; the adrenaline stops scorching his veins, and Tyler doesn’t even have strength to move a little when Josh nestles on the mattress next to him.

Josh prods Tyler’s side with his finger to make him roll onto his side; Tyler chokes back a gasp when Josh’s palm slides down Tyler’s thigh as Josh presses his chest to Tyler’s back. Tyler grips at Josh’s wrist to stop him when his palm is already on Tyler’s crotch.

“Josh, no,” Tyler hisses, yanking his pants up. “Are you insane? Your siblings are next door, Jesus,” he slaps Josh’s hand as he tries to shove his fingers under the waistband of Tyler’s pants again. “Stop it!”

“I’ve never had sex on this bed,” Josh suddenly confesses. He doesn’t try to get into Tyler’s pants anymore but starts to tickle his stomach instead.

“Good to know,” Tyler mutters, squirming out of Josh’s embrace. “But what about to get some sleep?”

“But I thought you didn’t want to…” Josh sounds really offended.

“We’re not gonna have s-sex here,” Tyler repeats. There’s nothing funny about turning Josh down, but he has to — his imagination pictures Josh’s Mom in the doorway and even though it’s only a thought, Tyler feels his cheeks grow hot.

Josh nuzzles his neck and hugs him from behind, and Tyler really wants to freeze the time and enjoy this moment for forever. It seems like the energy can’t just catch them here, can’t take over Tyler’s brain.

“Good night,” Josh whispers, pressing his lips to Tyler’s ear.

“Good night,” Tyler whispers with a labored smile playing on his lips.

 

***

_His head hurts again. The white light flickers through his still closed eyelids, and his jelly-like brain is doing flips inside of his skull. The lower part of his face is all wet, something trickles down his cheek, the taste at the back of his throat is nothing but copper. Tyler cracks his eyelids open, his eyelashes distort the reality as the amorphous shadows gather all around him, swirling and twinkling and making Tyler’s guts twist._

_He barely recognizes his right hand, outstretched and connected to a couple tubes, some yellow liquid runs down these transparent wires, inevitably finding its way right into Tyler’s vein._

_He’s alone in a big and empty room that looks like a hybrid of a hospital ward and a warehouse; Tyler is lying on his back on the examination table in just his white t-shirt and underwear; even though he’s not strapped to the table, he still can’t even lift his hand to wipe his face. He can’t even turn his pounding head to the side to stop swallowing his own blood. His nose hurts when he sniffs, another portion of blood pours down his throat. Tyler chokes on it and coughs, finally managing to move just a little, reaching his good hand to tear the needle out of his abnormally swollen vein; he can see the blue-black bruise surrounding a tiny red dot on the crook of his elbow._

_The battle begins, Tyler has some vague memories, he’s definitely forgotten something, he misses someone, but this Someone is probably miles away from him now. Tyler’s vision is lost in between the lights and vertigo when his ears register almost inaudible footsteps travelling towards him. There’s a sickening buzz in Tyler’s head, and he’s far too weak to get rid of this damned IV that’s filling his ruined veins with an unknown poison._

_Somebody, no, something is standing right next to Tyler, he can see them out of the corner of his eye, but the rest of his body is paralyzed and numb. His hammering heart rises up his throat, the blood keeps flowing out of his nose._

_His respiratory tract is completely blocked._

_Tyler wants to scream, to kick his invisible enemy, but the lack of oxygen works like a feather pillow pressed to his face; the drug slowly sets in, enclosing Tyler into the darkness. With his fading consciousness, Tyler feels like some power forces him to turn his head, holding him in place despite his weak attempts to sit up. The examination table is icy-cold against his hot and blood-stained cheek; Tyler blinks his eyes open once again and just sees somebody’s long fingers in front of his nose. The person is wearing a white rubber glove painted with Tyler’s blood._

_Tyler’s eyes drop shut without his permission._

_The buzzing grows louder._

_A bout of a sharp pain drills a hole in Tyler’s neck, right behind his left ear; his harsh breathing hurts his taut eardrums when his panicked mind realizes that there’s something solid being inserted underneath his skin._

_At first, Tyler thinks he’s dying. Then, the void in his head swallows his thoughts._

Tyler wakes up with a start but finds himself being unable to sit up as Josh’s hands practically pin him down the bed. His head swims as the flashbacks begin to flood his brain again.

 _‘It’s okay,’_ Tyler thinks helplessly. _‘I’m safe, I’m in Josh’s bedroom, it’s okay.’_

He can hear the birds chirping outside the window, the first rays of sun leak though the closed curtains. He’s awake. It’s okay.

Tyler takes a huge gulp of air, pressing his face to Josh’s collarbone and basically gripping at Josh’s shoulder to anchor himself to the reality. Josh smiles with the corner of his mouth and squeezes Tyler in a hug; Josh is still sleeping — he’s just trained himself to react to any Tyler’s moves.

Tyler can’t breathe. He thinks it’s due to a panic attack the nightmare caused, but it’s just a half of the problem. His right nostril is stuffed with- Tyler nearly jumps up on the mattress, bringing his hand up and dabbing at his nose. He kind of feels like crying as he notices a small red drop on the fingertip of his index finger.

“Josh,” Tyler croaks out, scared of his own raw voice. He can’t just say his nose is bleeding again. “Josh, I have to pee.”

“Sure,” Josh mumbles wearily and unlocks his arms so Tyler can get out of the bed. He has to hurry not to bleed all over himself. Luckily, Josh doesn’t look at him at the moment.

Tyler pinches his bleeding nostril with his thumb and carefully heads to the bedroom door.

“The bathroom is downstairs,” Josh informs him, burying his head in the pillow. “The second door on the right.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Tyler squeaks and storms out of the room.

He’s overwhelmed by a sudden happiness as he finds the hallway empty and almost runs to the bathroom like it’s the only safe place in Duns’ house.

“Occupied,” he hears a girl’s voice when he turns the doorknob.

“Sorry,” Tyler mutters and leans his back against the wall, tilting his head back. He doesn’t want to swallow his own blood again, but to ruin his nice t-shirt would be much worse.

At least, Tyler’s nightmare wasn’t a vision.

 _‘It wasn’t a vision,’_ echoes in Tyler’s head. His forehead hurts as if he ran into a concrete wall. _‘Blurryface is hiding in a black hole.’_ Or maybe — Tyler almost prays for it to be true — he’s just a demon from Tyler’s mind and has never existed in real life. Tyler’s head constantly plays tricks on him.

Tyler shudders when the bathroom door nearly hits his shoulder.

“Morning,” Ashley yawns lazily. “Oh. Sorry for making you wait here. Tyler?”

Tyler doesn’t even bother himself with being polite and just rushes for the sink before grabbing a handful of tissues from the counter.

“What happened?”

Tyler regrets he hasn’t locked the door in the first place.

“It’s nothing,” he assures.

“Did Josh push you off the bed or what?” Ashley shifts towards him, and Tyler just wants to shrink and disappear.

Instead, he just wipes a rusty-red stain from his upper lip and inspects his reflection in the mirror again. He admits that these dark circles around his eyes don’t make him attractive, but at least his clothes and face are relatively clean.

“Don’t tell Josh. Please,” Tyler still presses the tissue to his nose so his speech is rather incoherent.

His brain slowly turns to hot lava, which doesn’t improve Tyler’s mood.

“I wasn’t going to,” Ashley huffs out, folding her hands on her chest. “But Ty, if you’re sick you don’t have to hide that from Josh all the time.”

“Josh knows,” Tyler cuts her off.

But Ashley keeps being curious.

“Are you dying of cancer?”

“W-what?!” Tyler nearly chokes on his own saliva. “I’m not dying, _Ash._ Well, I mean, I’m dying, of course, because everyone is dying as the s-seconds pass by, but…” he catches his breath. “It’s not a cancer.”

“I got it,” Ashley nods, without a shadow of mockery this time. “Josh had nosebleeds when he was a kid,” she adds. Tyler keeps silent, letting her continue. “I don’t think you’re going to believe me, but something had happened to him.”

“Something bad?” Tyler tries not to show his interest.

“Something bad,” Ashley agrees.

It’s so ironic — Tyler is going to find out the truth about his boyfriend’s nosebleeds talking to his way too communicative sister while dealing with his own nosebleed. It’s not flowing like a river this time, Tyler is a lucky one. And that’s pretty ironic too.

If Ashley was a witness of Josh’s Contact, does it mean she’s a Contactee as well? Tyler isn’t sure. Ashley is still here while he buries the tissues in the trashcan; after, Tyler bends over the ceramic sink and drinks the cold water straight from the tap; Ashley’s uptight gaze burns holes in Tyler’s back.

Tyler sniffs hard; he’s tired of waking up this way — with the crust of blood dried in the back of his throat, but it’s better than waking up with his hands on Josh’s tensed neck. Tyler turns off the faucet and wipes his hands on the paper towel, too afraid to nod his head and spill more blood out of the imaginary storage tank he’s pretty sure he has in his skull. The beating of his heart is sending needles of pain through his head somehow. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tyler responds, turning to Ashley. “So. Do you know anything about what’s happened to Josh?”

He’s leaving the bathroom with Ashley by his side; the girl bites her lip with a frown.

“Our parents don’t let us talk about that, honestly,” she says in a low voice. “But I’m a great lawbreaker. Well, Mom and Dad kept just saying Josh just fainted — some crap with his ‘blood pressure’,” she does the air quotes. “But there was the light.”

“And? Have you seen something… abnormal?” Tyler asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, no, our parents just brought Josh home, he was bleeding, I was terrified; I even thought I was going to be the eldest kid in our family,” Ashley chuckles darkly. “A few hours later Josh told us he felt like levitating, and there was some UFO or something, but our parents told him it was just a hallucination,” Ashley shrugs. “Though, you know what? I believe him. I still believe.”

“Wow. Josh hasn’t told me about that,” Tyler lies in attempts to get more facts.

Ashley doesn’t hesitate to give Tyler what he wants.

“I hate saying that, but Josh started acting weird after that faint,” she says. “Like, one day he was arguing with Dad about some crap and our radio fell off the shelf. The other day we were in the car, and Josh was mad about going to school at Saturday, and we ended up in the middle of the road with a burst tire and Josh’s nosebleed.”

Ashley shifts from one foot to another nervously, Tyler nearly wants to comfort her.

“Parents took him to a child psychologist, explaining that Josh couldn’t cope with his aggression. And like five months later he couldn’t even remember he’d been doing those things, our parents were happy, and Josh was ‘cured’,” Ashley says sarcastically. “But Mom and Dad are afraid something might trigger him again.”

Ashley shoves her shaking hands in the pockets of her pajama shorts with a floral print.

_‘I triggered him.’_

Tyler doesn’t want to share this fact with Josh.

The thought keeps bashing Tyler’s brain; he massages his temples to relieve a sudden migraine.

“Tyler?”

Tyler opens his eyes. He doesn’t remember closing them.

“What’s wrong?!”

Ashley’s face is a little blurry, but Tyler focuses on the gleaming of her septum piercing and gets his vision back. His right eyelid tics.

“N-nothing’s wrong.” 

“Are you sure?” Ashley eyes him concernedly.

Tyler shrugs.

“Probably.”

The fact they’re standing in the hallway, and Josh’s parents might overhear their conversation encourages Tyler’s paranoia to kick him in the gut. He needs to lie down.

Tyler begins to walk towards the stairs, a little irritated that Ashley keeps following his every step.

“We’d been worried sick when Josh had been missing,” Ashley says in almost indifferent tone. “I know you guys had gotten stuck in a deep shit. But honestly- Ty, you’re much better than those girls our parents tried to pair Josh up with.”

“I d-didn’t expect… that,” Tyler coughs up the words.

“Trust me,” Ashley shoots him with a sly smile. “I think I gotta go and clean the dishes.”

With that, she waves her hand at him and heads towards the kitchen.

Tyler heaves out a sigh and plods back to Josh’s bedroom; his ears are still ringing, and his knees buckle when he makes it to the bed. He nearly falls on top of Josh who is lying on Tyler’s side of the bed.

Well, at least, Josh doesn’t try to spy on him.

 

***

“I hope your parents don’t think I’m a drug addict or something like that,” Tyler says, getting into the passenger seat of Josh’s car and buckling himself up.

“Calm down, everything was just fine,” Josh waves his hand at Laura as he pulls the car out of the driveway.

Tyler can’t say the meeting had gone wrong, but the doubts are gnawing at him anyway. All the goodbyes are said, handshakes are done, and the plastic boxes with homemade food have found their place in the backseat. 

It’s such a relief to finally leave this house. Though, Tyler definitely likes Josh’s family. They didn’t press on them, and the amount of awkward questions wasn’t that huge. Josh’s parents really care about him, about his mental and physical health, Tyler can still feel it. He also can feel Laura’s concern and love, she treats Tyler like he’s already a part of their family. Maybe they have plans for him, who knows.

It’s so sad that Tyler can’t just dive in the daily routine when the charades keep falling down on him like a meteor shower.

Josh turns the car radio on, nodding his head to the rhythm as he drives and joins the flow of the other vehicles. Tyler suddenly remembers he hasn’t checked Bill’s car yet. It makes him feel upset.

They don’t talk for a while, and a steady murmuring of the engine lulls Tyler to sleep; though, his slumber gets interrupted by a sudden stop on the road near the wood.

“What? Where are we? What h-happened?” Tyler shivers anxiously, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

The trees are decorated with red and yellow leaves, wavering from every gust of wind like tiny flags. Some of them are lying on the ground like a multicolored carpet; one still green leaf is plastered to the windshield right in front of Tyler.

“Do you remember this place?” Josh asks, the corner of his mouth curls upwards.

“This road, uh,” Tyler clears his throat. “We first met here.”

It’s pretty far from Josh’s parents’ house. Josh probably had a good reason to waste some time and drive Tyler here. Tyler still can’t wake up. His brain is trapped by the nightmare about getting that microchip in his neck.

Tyler shakes his head, letting his thoughts rattle inside; he looks at Josh’s face and kind of forgets about his inner war for a second. Josh greets him with a soft smile, lips parted a little as if he’s going to say something but can’t find the courage. Tyler knows this look. He’s waiting.

Josh runs his hands through his matted hair, brushing the faded purple strands off his forehead. He’s definitely up to something.

Tyler bites the inside of his cheek, thinking.  

“Why are we here?”

The wind rips the leaf from the windshield and lifts it in the air.

“I want to give you something,” Josh says insinuatingly. He opens the glove compartment and takes a tiny carton box out of it. Josh snaps his fingers, allowing the box soar in the air and waving it towards Tyler — there are small silver letters written on the box — j+t.

“What is this?”

“It depends on you,” Josh smirks. “It can be just a joke or… Come on, open it,” Josh fidgets on the seat impatiently. He keeps holding the box in the air and pushes it closer to Tyler.

Tyler’s heart feels heavy, and his head feels light as he opens the box while Josh keeps chewing his bottom lip, watching him. Tyler is not sentimental, but the sight of two black rings lying in the box causes that tingly feeling in his stomach.

Josh took him to the place where it all began to _propose_ him. Tyler can’t believe.    

“So? Verdict?” Josh’s palm is under the box now, just a few inches below.

“I say yes,” Tyler exhales.

“Gonna spend the rest of life with me?” Josh winks at him, the relief soaks through his words.

Tyler loves him so much.

“Of c-course,” Tyler stammers, taking the rings from the box. They’re just black metal ones, but Tyler places them on his palm carefully, like they’re made of glass or might disappear at any moment like the leprechaun’s treasure.  

Tyler stares at Josh like he’s a saint.

“Let’s do this,” Josh clamps one of the rings between his fingers. “Ready?”

There are no red velvet boxes, no vows, no shiny diamonds — there’s just a car with fogged windows, their sweaty palms and trembling hands and Josh’s quiet ‘wow’ as the ring slides on Tyler’s finger. Tyler does the same with Josh’s ring finger; Josh’s smile is so wide and bright as Tyler takes his hand and looks into his eyes.

“I actually wanted to take you to a restaurant and drink expensive champagne, but then I remembered we’re kinda broke at the moment,” Josh explains with a faint laughter. “So I decided to take you there. Couldn’t give you the rings in my parents’ house ‘cuz you were stressed out.”

Tyler looks down at their hands. He likes that the rings aren’t golden.

“I love you,” Tyler says because there are no any available words in his brain.

Josh squeezes Tyler’s palm.

“I love you too.”

And Tyler just kisses him. Josh is so warm and _alive_ , his lips are so soft, so real, every touch resurrects the dead and rotten parts of Tyler’s soul. Tyler closes his eyes, breathing into the kiss when Josh’s hand traces down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

With that, Tyler kisses Josh harder.

Well, it’s not Josh’s childhood bedroom. So, at least, no one is going to spot them here.

“Can I?” Josh asks, tugging at Tyler’s belt.

“Yes,” Tyler’s answer is a ragged moan. “Yes.”

 

***

If the aliens are going to capture the whole world and destroy it with the lasers from their spaceships, Tyler hopes he’ll be the first to die. Because he’s selfish. Because Tyler’s personality is already crumbling, turning his brain to a handful of useless ashes.

They don’t even talk about the wedding, they haven’t picked the date yet; it’s mostly because of the uncertainty and Tyler’s memory problems. He hates to call them ‘problems’, but sometimes he just walks into the room without having a clue what he was going to do there. But this happens to normal people too, right?

He’s not sure, honestly.

“Josh, I want to have your name tattooed on me, what do you think about it?”

Tyler taps his finger on the kitchen table, his stare glued to the small coffee-stain.

“Are you being serious?”

Josh nearly coughs his coffee back up, Tyler can tell it.

“Yeah, why not? M-marking is my thing anyway,” Tyler shrugs.

He hates getting marks. But he wants to get this _unique_ tattoo. It’s probably an odd form of masochism.

“Do you want me to take you to the tattoo-parlor?” Josh points at still unfinished picture on his right hand. “I’m gonna go there next week.”

“No, I don’t wanna get it in the parlor,” Tyler shakes his head. “Um, you know, I wanna get it tattooed on my leg, so I don’t want to take my pants off in front of some random dude,” he explains awkwardly. “I think, we have to find a tattoo-machine, yeah,” Tyler falls silent, realizing he’s asking for too much.  

But it’s very important. He feels like this might save Josh’s life.

Josh puts his mug on the table and reaches for his phone, scrolling something and frowning slightly.

“We need Jack,” Josh mutters.

“Excuse me?”

“Barakat can help us.”

Tyler can’t stop calling Jack ‘Josh’s ex’ in his head even though drunken one-night stand hardly counts as relationship. The jealousy sinks its claws in Tyler’s chest, but then he remembers they’re not paying the rent. Maybe, he can handle it.

 

***

Jack visits them in the evening, opening the door with his own key. Tyler’s insecurity strikes him down again.

“Congratulations!” Jack exclaims as he notices the rings on their fingers. He holds a plastic bag in his hands; Tyler perks up as Jack hands him the bag. “Be careful, dudes,” Jack warns. “I don’t want any of you to get a septicemia.”

“Thanks,” Tyler peeks into the bag. There’s something pretty light, wrapped into a ton of cellophane with bubbles. There are also some rubber gloves and a small tube of antiseptic cream.

Jack is way too kind.

“Josh, I hope you know how to use this crap?” Jack asks, looking at the tree tattooed on Josh’s arm.

“Nope,” Josh laughs. “Where did you get it?”

“I have a friend who has a friend who sells…” Jack blurts out, taking a step towards the door. “It’s a long story, nevermind. Just don’t break it, and everything is going to be fine.”  

“Yeah, we’ll be careful. Tyler just wants to get a tattoo,” Josh explains softly, his hand placed on Tyler’s shoulder.

Tyler presses the tattoo-machine to his chest, a little ashamed by Josh’s intonation.

“Well, good luck,” Jack nods. “Okay, I gotta go- I have a photoshoot,” he glances at the watch he doesn’t have. “Well, I’m leaving, bye,” he says and pushes the door open.

“Bye,” Tyler repeats after him.

Josh just scratches the back of his head absently.

 

***

“Don’t move, I’ve never done this before,” Josh points out, squeezing Tyler’s bare thigh. “Are you sure you still want this?”

Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Do this already,” he huffs. He’s sitting on the stool and fidgeting as Josh pinches the skin on his leg.

Josh has a black rubber glove on his hand, the air smells like the disinfectant mixed with a paint, and the device in Josh’s hand is buzzing impatiently.

“That’s gonna be an ugly one,” Josh warns plainly.

“I don’t care.”

The only thing Tyler cares about at the moment is that Josh’s face is pretty close to his crotch; Tyler can even feel his warm breathing, ghosting over his sensitive skin. Tyler tugs his long t-shirt down to cover his briefs.

Josh laughs at him.

“Well, let’s go,” Josh finally says, pressing the end of the needle to Tyler’s thigh.

Josh is so focused on writing the letters of his name (he had the same look on his face while giving Tyler a handjob in the car two days ago). Josh clamps the tip of his tongue between his teeth as the ink injects under Tyler’s tanned skin and leaves small black marks.

_josh_

It barely hurts.

“Wow,” Tyler smirks when Josh carefully spreads a cream over the tattoo. “C-can’t believe you did it.”   

“Yeah,” Josh raises his head, still crouched down in front of Tyler. “Now it’s your turn to be a tattoo-artist, come on,” he gestures at Tyler to get up.

“Why?” Tyler takes a spare rubber glove and a cottonwool while Josh flops down onto the stool.

“To take a revenge on me for the ugliest tattoo in history,” Josh smirks. “Here,” he rubs his knee; he’s wearing shorts so Tyler notices that Josh shaved some hair right above his kneecap.  

“Oh really?” Tyler grins at his boyfriend. “You’re already prepared. That’s so cute.”

“We have to complete our soulbond, that’s all,” Josh winces a little as Tyler starts tattooing the T.

“Sorry,” Tyler’s hands are shaking a little, but he pulls himself together almost immediately.

He silently watches the pattern appearing on a little reddened skin; it looks a little brighter than the tattoo created by Josh’s hands, but Tyler feels satisfied as he finishes it.

**Tyler**

“Well, at least you’re using capital letters,” Josh chuckles.

Tyler cocks his head, appraising the tattoo.

“Um,” he says thoughtfully.

“It looks great, don’t worry, I like it,” Josh ruffles Tyler’s hair.

“Of course, you d-do.”

Tyler throws the glove on the carpet beside him.

The next moment, Tyler is sitting on Josh’s lap, biting at his lips and shoving his hand down Josh’s shorts.

And of course, Josh likes it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe it was fluffy idk


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it’s better to be honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blood warning

“Tyler?”

The sound of Josh’s worried voice shreds Tyler’s aching brain to pieces.

“Do you feel any better?”

 _‘Please, just leave me alone,_ ’ Tyler thinks with a desperate groan. Though, Josh takes this as ‘no’.

Tyler’s eyelids are heavy and itchy as if he’s been crying for hours. He’s lying on the couch with a thick blanket kindly tucked all around him, and a violent migraine is about to blow his head up.

“Try to get some sleep then, okay?”

Josh is so nice to him.

Tyler doesn’t want to be a burden.

This morning, he was about to go to work, and everything seemed to be just fine — even Tyler’s mood was much better than usual after meeting Josh’s parents and siblings. He was just brushing his teeth when he glanced at the mirror and suddenly froze with his mouth agape. The man in the mirror wasn’t Tyler. His eyes were red, filled with a bloody fire splashing around his pupils which seemed to be abnormally dilated. Hypnotized, Tyler couldn’t even move away from a horrifying picture, clutching his toothbrush in his hand and feeling his clothes stick to his clammy skin.

Then, Tyler’s reflection (he couldn’t bring himself to think of the Creature’s real name) jerked its head in a fast motion, and Tyler’s legs gave up underneath him. The last thing he realized was hitting his back against the bathroom tiles, the pain sparkled down his neck as the back of his head connected with the cold floor.

The door wasn’t locked. Josh found Tyler lying unconscious between the shower cabin and the sink, with a broken toothbrush in his palm.

Tyler woke up with his head spinning, a cold rag was placed over his forehead, the water running down his temples. ‘You’re not going to work,’ Josh informed him. ‘You fainted.’ So, Tyler had to make an awkward call and tell his boss he came down with a stomach bug; Tyler was sure that his boss didn’t believe him because his words were terribly slurred as if he was drunk. ‘You’re so lucky, Joseph,’ Tyler’s boss said with a chuckle. ‘We don’t need you today.’

No one needed Tyler. That was it.

It’s been hours of drifting in and out of consciousness, but the migraine still doesn’t want to let Tyler’s head get some rest. The smells are still too pungent, and the colors are still too bright.

“Hey?” Josh’s light touch against Tyler’s hair is equal to a solid punch. “I can bring your meds. Or, you know, we can call Jenna.”

“It’s just a regular headache,” Tyler tries miserably. The pain finds its home in his right temple, practically blinding his right eye. Tyler tries to blink away the blur, to wipe it off, but it seems like his peripheral vision is not available anymore. He can’t even see a half of Josh’s face through all that haze.

“That’s not normal, Ty,” Josh sighs. “I can’t stand to see you suffer like this,” he leans to press his lips to Tyler’s forehead. Tyler thinks this might squeeze his viscous brain out of his ears. “You’re sick.”

“Just a little,” Tyler smiles weakly.

“Yeah,” Josh returns the smile. “A little.”

Tyler doesn’t want to bother Jenna mostly because this might get all of them into troubles like examinations, blood tests and vaccinating. Tyler hates VESSEL with all his guts, for chasing him, for experimenting with the Contactees and for not being able to save them. Tyler hates himself, too, for being such an egoistic coward.

Blurryface wants to take Tyler’s place, to hurt Josh — Tyler can’t just cancel the Mission.

Thinking process only fuels a sharp pain in Tyler’s head; his racing heart aches too. He screws his eyes shut, seeing the thousands of white flashes swarming in his brain like worms.

Tyler hopes that one day he’ll get a chance to wake up in a better world.

 

***

He jolts awake with the realization he’s being yanked away from his hideously wet pillow. Tyler sniffles, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand and finally looking down at it.

“Shit,” he hears Josh hiss.

A certain taste on Tyler’s lips and a large red stain on the pillowcase make Tyler instantly put two and two together. A sticky liquid smeared all over his left cheek is definitely not a drool.

“Oh no,” Tyler scrambles to sit up before he drips the blood all over the couch.

There’s a nagging pain right between his teary eyes, the bridge of his nose feels swollen. A brown cushion is probably ruined beyond repair.

“Sit up, here,” Josh practically drags him upright so Tyler can lean against the back of a couch. “Tilt your head forward, good,” he commands as if Tyler doesn’t know what to do.

The blood coming down Tyler’s esophagus makes his stomach clench. He pinches his burning nostrils as good as he can, but he can still feel the blood gathering there and dripping through his fingers; Tyler tries to breathe through his mouth, ears clogged. He can barely hear what Josh is saying.

Josh is on his knees in front of Tyler, hands already stained with Tyler’s blood.

“I’m gonna bring you some towels. Wait a second,” Josh says concernedly.

“‘M goin’ to bathroom,” Tyler exhales, loosening the grip a little and feeling more wetness on his fingertips.

He feels faint again as he gets up on his feet, Josh helps him make it to the bathroom; Tyler lets some drops of blood fall and splatter on the floor, then stepping into these tiny crimson pools and smearing the mess across the parquet. A tiled floor near the shower cabin is disgustingly cold under Tyler’s bare feet, the goosebumps seep through his sweatpants as Josh sits him down beside the toilet.

“Let me see,” Josh asks, gently removing Tyler’s hand off his face.

Tyler’s palm is all red, the blood forms a crust on the back of his hand and underneath his nose, but fresh flows from both of his nostrils don’t let it dry completely. Tyler looks down at his blue t-shirt with a printed picture of a tiger on the front and finds it stained with a sickeningly-crimson pattern. Tyler tries to sniffle, but it’s impossible as the liquid forces its way out of his nose and runs down his chin.

“Oh God.”

Josh’s eyes are hollow as he watches it; he swallows hard before shuffling to the sink and reaching for a wad of paper towels.

“You don’t have t-to watch,” Tyler unwillingly forces the air out through his stuffy nose. “I can clean m’self.”

Josh crouches down beside him, hands full of wet towels as he urges Tyler to stop touching his bloody nose. Tyler shoves Josh’s hand away, grabbing the paper towel and scrubbing furiously at his cheeks and chin. A pink water soaks through the collar of his t-shirt. He thinks he will never wear it again.

“Ty, stop. You’re gonna make it worse,” Josh warns him, his hands replace Tyler’s; a cold towel moves slowly across his face, wiping some of the mess. “Jesus,” Josh croaks out as he moves Tyler’s head up a little and checks his nostrils. “It’s oozing, I can see it.”

Tyler can _feel_ it.

The first time it had caught Tyler really bad was during the Forest Incident. He was semi-conscious all the time, but that nosebleed was just a cherry on top. Afterwards, he’s had a couple of uncontrollable ones as a side effect of a block-serum, but they didn’t last that long.

In fact, Tyler keeps losing blood.

“D-don’t look,” Tyler repeats, his voice sounds nasally. He takes a handful of fresh paper towels and literally buries his face in them.

“We have to tell Jenna,” Josh utters quietly. “Actually, I texted her while you were sleeping, but she didn’t text back.”

“Maybe she’s sick of us,” Tyler shrugs apathetically.

All he can feel right now is a pain and fatigue filling up his muscles. His head aches, his heart crawls up his throat, keeping on pumping his blood out of his nostrils.

“Let me,” Josh wipes the blood from Tyler’s chin. “You look like you ate someone.”

Tyler chuckles gloomily.

“I ruined all m-my clothes. A cushion. Your l-life,” he props his elbow on the toilet seat.

“We can still fix it,” Josh says patiently. “Hold it there,” he adjusts the wet cloth on the bridge of Tyler’s nose. “Don’t move, I’ll bring you an icepack.”

They always have the icepacks in their fridge.

When Josh leaves, Tyler starts to panic; he wants to peel his dirty clothes off, to burn it. He accidentally looks down and sees red stains on a grey fabric of his sweatpants, on his ankles even. The cloth falls off his nose, smacking against the tiles, but Tyler can’t reach for it.

He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall not to make himself sick.

“Hey, look at me,” Josh gently cups his chin as he returns. Tyler reluctantly uncovers his nose again. “I think it’s getting a bit better.”

The skin on Tyler’s face hurts when Josh covers it with the icepack and holds it pressed against Tyler’s nose. His nostrils are full of fresh and clotted blood, his lips are too dry but too disgusting to lick them.

“I can drive you to the hospital,” Josh offers when Tyler outstretches his hand to take a towel and wipe his face again.

The migraine bashes Tyler’s temple like a metal rod.

“P-please, no,” Tyler whines, the saliva flooding up his mouth. “I’m gonna puke in your car.”

Sometimes, it’s better to be honest.

“We’re waiting ten minutes,” Josh says, giving Tyler a fresh towel. “If it doesn’t stop, I’m taking you to the hospital no matter what, so if you’re going to vomit, feel free to do so.”

The black ring on Josh’s finger is covered in blood.

Tyler swallows thickly.

He still can’t breathe properly, and the hole in his brain grows bigger; the ice starts to melt, turning some of the pain to water, but a steady ache in Tyler’s head hasn’t even subsided yet.

He drags his knees to his chest and hugs them with his weak arms.

Josh kisses his temple.

Josh keeps holding the icepack against Tyler’s nose until his nostrils start to feel dry. Tyler is pretty sure it takes a little more than ten minutes, but Josh gives him some time to recover.

“Tyler?” Josh jerks his shoulder when Tyler drops his head on it.

“I’m tired,” Tyler slurs.

He pushes Josh’s hand off his face to stop it pressing so hard. Tyler sniffles and immediately winces at the soreness in his nose. He runs his palm over his nostrils, feeling only the icky skin, but there’s no liquid anymore.

“It stopped,” Tyler concludes.

He lets Josh inspect his nose closely, lets him touch and pinch it, pretending his brain doesn’t slosh in his skull when he turns his head. His brain is probably bleeding, too.

“How’s your head?” Josh asks, rubbing Tyler’s neck.

“Better,” Tyler replies a little too quickly.

“You’re lying.”

“Yes,” Tyler echoes Josh’s sigh. “But it’s not that terrible since the nosebleed has stopped, really.”

Tyler tries his best to sound confident, but of course, his voice cracks miserably.

He can still smell the blood on their clothes, on his face, on Josh’s hands. Tyler is not that sensitive, but now, it just _stinks_. He’s eager to undress and wash away the smell. Tyler’s head goes all dizzy as he manages to get up so Josh has to help him take off his t-shirt and sweatpants, leaving them piled on the floor. There’s so much blood on them.

Tyler doesn’t tell Josh about his hallucination, he just can’t. His mind is blank as he steadies himself against the sink and begins to clean up his face and chest; some of the blood has caked underneath his fingernails and in the lines on his palms, some smeared down his neck.

“Wanna take a shower? I can stay with you,” Josh says.

Tyler doesn’t feel like joining him.

He uses some soap to clean his skin; his eyes sting as the foam starts to eat them away, but it’s a good reason to close them shut so Tyler can avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror on the cupboard.

Tyler knows he looks sick and probably pale.

His body will never be clean while the marks are littering it. Sometimes, he wants to grab a metal sponge and scrub these marks off, to destroy them like they destroyed him.

“Say something,” Josh asks.

Tyler hears Josh’s clothes fall on the tiles.

“Something.”

He doesn’t want to open his eyes.

The migraine in his head is not that bad when he can’t see the light.

Though, he has to face the pain again.

Tyler takes a large fluffy towel from the rack and wipes his face and torso, a little surprised that his mind doesn’t let him black out.

“I’m gonna do the laundry,” Josh mutters. He just stands in front of Tyler, stripped down to his boxers, playing awkwardly with the black gauge in his earlobe. This usually turns Tyler on, but now he’s too tired to think of sex.

“I want to take a nap,” Tyler says. He scratches his neck behind his left ear, it scares him all of the sudden. _He doesn’t have anything there_.

“Sure, I’m gonna check you when I’m done with the shower,” Josh nods. “Do you need me to lead you to the bedroom?”

“No, I can walk,” Tyler huffs out. Well, he didn’t mean to huff, but he still feels like he has two corks in his nostrils.  

“Alright then,” Josh bends over to pick their clothes from the floor. There are some red drops on the white tiles.

“I’ll t-take something from the wardrobe,” Tyler grabs the paper towels and tissues (did Josh spend his entire salary on them?) from the shelf and leaves the bathroom, ignoring an unsteady floor under his legs. The walls are swaying like crazy.

Tyler sits down onto the edge of the bed, too lazy to make two more steps to the wardrobe and find something except the black boxers he’s wearing. Instead, he snatches his phone from underneath the pillow and tries to send a message. It’s hard — Tyler’s fingers are shaking and his vision is doubled, but he perseveres.

_‘it’s getting worse.’_

He waits a minute.

**Unread.**

_‘i had a nosebleed and couldn’t stop it. it’s not right.’_

**Unread.**

_‘my head hurts 24/7.’_

**Unread.**

Tyler feels nauseous as he stares at the flashing screen. It’s too bright.

_‘jen, i think i need your help.’_

**Unread.**

_‘please, reply.’_

**Unread.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably warnings

When Tyler was eighteen, he didn’t talk. He’d spent a week living in the basement with rats and stray cats not even planning on his surviving, but then a group of people hauled him out of that relatively warm place. Tyler felt like he was supposed to do something, but the sky was dark and Tyler couldn’t identify any signs. There was no light, just white and sharp flakes falling from a black endless abysm ranging above Tyler’s head.

It was very, very cold.

Tyler missed his basement.

He was surrounded by faceless creatures, pushing him, shoving him aside when he tried to sneak into a brightly lit place in the end of the street. He liked a wonderful smell coming from an open door, but he wasn’t brave enough to enter it, to dissolve in warmth.

Somebody pushed him again.

“Fucking homeless,” the person grunted.

Tyler didn’t respond.

He was running down the sidewalk, wading through the blizzard, the wind kept hitting him in the face and an annoying flakes kept making his eyes water; he ended up slipping and smashing his knees and elbows on the asphalt, remains of air were knocked out of his lungs. Tyler was almost knocked out, too.

A middle-aged woman accidentally stepped on him, tripped over his thigh; she just cursed loudly and walked away, snapping her cane on the layer of ice on the ground.

Tyler ached all over; he barely made it to the nearest bench when a sudden bout of dizziness made him lose his balance and fall down. His leg hurt where the woman kicked him, his stomach hurt from the weird emptiness, and Tyler didn’t know how to cope with it. He didn’t know how to fix it.

He knew that falling asleep like this was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t get up and keep walking, even his toes and fingertips were numb. His face, hair and clothes were wet from the melted snow that had already begun to crystallize on his skin, scratching it.

He wasn’t going to stay here, he just needed to take a rest. He could only find the strength to pull the hood of his black hoodie over his head and bend his knees a little. He heard the echo of footsteps, but they were muffled as if Tyler’s ears were already full of snow.

The strangers were busy.

And Tyler was _homeless_.

He woke up to a persistent shake.

“Are you alive?”

Tyler huffed through the snow.

“Can you get up?”

Tyler sat up slowly, closing his eyes when his surroundings started to spin.

“Oh, good. I’m living like over there, come on!”

Somebody snatched the front of Tyler’s hoodie.

“Or do you need me to call an ambulance?”

Tyler didn’t know what the person was talking about but he didn’t need that.

“Can you open your eyes?”

Tyler blinked through the ice forming on his wet eyelashes and saw the person who’d been talking to him in the past few minutes. A grey knit hat, a big scarf was covering a half of her face, blonde hair which looked more like icicles, blue eyes. Tyler tried to memorize her not to let himself collapse again.

She was warm.

That’s how Tyler remembered her.  

That’s how Tyler remembers Jenna Black.

Tyler hugs Josh’s pillow to his chest when Josh enters the bedroom, the spell of a flashback dissipates in the air. It’s not that Tyler thinks of it too much, but sometimes it just falls all over him like a curtain.

“Sleeping?” Josh whispers.

Tyler turns to him.

“Nah.” 

“You look terrible,” Josh informs him. “Take a rest.”

“I c-can’t fall asleep when I can still taste blood in my mouth,” Tyler replies with a sigh.

His voice still doesn’t sound right. His head still hurts. Maybe it’s Tyler’s punishment for not telling Josh about his conversation with Ashley.

Tyler hates secrets.

Thinking back of his first meeting with Jenna, Tyler couldn’t believe she was two years older than him, she told him a story about her college and how she was working a waitress in a local café. Some of the pieces of the story didn’t fit together, but Tyler was too scared and too stunned to investigate that.

He wrote his name on a paper tissue because he didn’t know how his tongue was supposed to work. It took for over a month for Tyler to finally utter something resembling _T-tyler_. Jenna said she was proud of him, told him facts about a selective mutism, and that _‘oh dear, no, your stutter is not that terrible’_.

Tyler’s stutter _is_ terrible, and he knows it. It occasionally gets worse.

Josh’s hand on the back of Tyler’s head tries to calm down his hectic thoughts and Tyler caves. He leans against Josh’s shoulder, smelling Josh’s shower gel.

“I don’t like menthol.”

“You don’t have to,” Josh nods, his hand rubs Tyler’s back. “We should, you know… what do you think about a little shopping? Like, this weekend?”

“Yeah, this sounds pretty cool,” Tyler replies indifferently.

“Now sleep,” Josh urges, gently pushing Tyler on the pillows.

Tyler sniffles again. Josh deciphers it.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

Tyler rolls his eyes.

 

***

Tyler doesn’t remember falling asleep, but apparently, the magic of Josh’s presence next to him has worked just right. Well, it would be better if it didn’t work. Because Tyler sees the world with someone’s eyes _again,_ but this time the vision also transmits some of the tactile sensations.

_Tyler can feel a chilly wind piercing through his skin and making the beads of sweat on his neck turn to glass. He cracks his knuckles before opening the car trunk and grinning at the sight — Tyler lets out a strangled gasp quickly replaced by an obnoxious smirk. Jenna’s lying there in the trunk, curled into herself, her frame looks impossibly small in the faint rays of a dying sun. The smears of blood are everywhere — on her blonde hair, on her ghostly-white face, on a dirty cloth wrapped around her mouth._

_Jenna blinks her eyes open, groaning and staring at Tyler, practically striking him down with her gaze full of disgust._

_Tyler hears light splashes of water right behind his back, he wants to stop wasting his precious time with his hostage._

_He throws his head back and screams; a low guttural roar rips his vocal chords and sets his throat on fire._

_The air suffocates him._

_“Wake up,” the air says._

Tyler can still taste copper on his lips.

“Tyler, wake up.”

The nightmare is not so vivid now, Tyler can recognize the voice, screwing in his brain. It’s not air. There’s no air.

“I must save her,” Tyler sits up with a jolt, the bed creaks a little. “Jenna is in danger. I gotta go, it-t’s not dawn yet!”

“Don’t tell me it was one of your dreams again,” Josh groans out. Tyler smacks his shoulder.

“It was.”

Tyler swings his legs over the edge of the bed while Josh is still waiting for the explanations. Tyler doesn’t know how to give him what he wants. He opens the wardrobe and grabs the first clothes that fall out of it — his black jeans and Josh’s blue and black plaid shirt. Josh begins to dress up, too, fishing his jeans and a sweatshirt from underneath the bed.

“What did you see?” he asks.

“Jenna.”

“More details?”

“A bloodied Jenna,” Tyler snaps. “You’re not coming with me. Give me the keys,” Tyler demands and reaches his hand out.

The waste of time is going to kill them.

“Where is she now?”

Tyler presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. His intuition prompts that Jenna has already been captured. And Tyler can’t figure the exact location.

“There was the w-water,” he stutters out. “A car. Everything smelled like blood and d-death,” he adds in a shaky whisper. “I don’t know.”

His visions are always too slow and tricky. The first one was true, the second one wasn’t, but Halsey’s house existed anyway so Tyler can’t be positive if his mind is lying to him again.

“Josh,” Tyler pleads. “Please, don’t go with me.”

Josh knows too much.

“Get into the car.”

Josh is uncompromising. 

Tyler lowers his head and obeys.

The tendrils of fear are coursing through him, he’s terrified of what might happen to Josh or of what has already happened to Jenna, he’s freezing and sweating, and a brown color of Josh’s sweatshirt makes him want to vomit.

“Ready?”

Tyler swallows. Josh now acts like all of it is his own idea.

“Ready,” Tyler says.

 

***

Having an invisible compass in your head is weird. Well, feeling like a puppet in someone’s clumsy hands is much weirder. There are the strings attached to Tyler’s weak limbs, a mechanism that controls his brain, his tongue.

“A cliff,” Tyler says. “I’m pretty sure.”

He’s tired all of the sudden, he doesn’t want to perform the task.

There are not many cliffs in the town — just one, to be honest, with a lovely (and deep) lake below. Tyler remembers this place from his past — those times when he and Jenna tried to go to dates and brought Tyler’s telescope to the cliff to watch the starry sky. Those times when he thought Jenna was just a regular girl. Those times, he thought he was a regular guy.

Tyler tends to get lost in his own conclusions.  

He thinks of possible ways to find Jenna and warn her, but she’s not picking her phone — Tyler called her, left a couple of voicemails, and his unread messages, messages, messages…

“We’ll find her, I promise,” Josh says. His confidence makes Tyler flinch.

“We have to,” he squeaks out.

It’s getting darker, and the monsters are about to rear their heads again, to take the seats in the first row.

The road is empty; they’re driving through the forest, and long tree branches are almost clinging to the car, forcing both Josh and Tyler to curse and close the windows. And now, it’s getting colder. The closer they get to the cliff, the more of Tyler’s personal demons appear. Josh keeps talking to Tyler not to let him zone out, but Tyler just can’t understand Josh’s words as the wall of bad thoughts blocks his mind again.

_You can’t save anyone._

_You’re killing them._

They don’t have time to go and check Jenna’s apartment or VESSEL miles away.

The windows are closed, but Tyler can already feel a certain smell of a stagnant water, the gusts of wind hitting the windshield, the smell from his dream. Anxiety and terror curl and uncurl inside of him like snakes, tying knots over his guts as the car finally stops.

There’s just their car, Tyler doesn’t see any vehicles there, but this fact doesn’t satisfy him.

“And so?” Josh lingers, obviously not wanting to leave the driver’s seat.

“I saw this place,” Tyler states. He quickly unbuckles himself and unlocks the door, exposing himself to the wind.

Soon enough, Josh follows him, standing next to him and looking up to the sky painted in deep-blue and purple palette. It’s not that dark.

It looks almost beautiful. Almost.

“She was there,” Tyler tries miserably.

“This won’t change anything.”

Josh looks worried. Tyler’s mental state scares him, Tyler guesses.

Jenna isn’t replying to his messages.

The waves of the water below begin to lick smooth boulders, harshly, almost devouring them. Tyler hears this noise, his head hurts again, a nasty pulsation in his right temple, in his right eye.

Tyler roams the cliff, Josh follows his every step, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“What are you searching for?” Josh asks. “She’s not here.”

Tyler hates a fragile system in his head that can’t even work right.

“Why does it keep hunting me?” Tyler wonders.

Josh opens his mouth to respond, but the other voice interrupts him brusquely.

“Because that’s who you are.”

Tyler feels like he’s about to swoon as he turns around only to be met by a derisive glance of the red gloving eyes.

“What? What?!” Josh exhales as Blurryface slides towards them.

Tyler’s hand squeezes the sleeve of Josh’s sweatshirt.

“Nice to meet you, Joshie,” Blurryface sneers. 

He hasn’t changed since the last time Tyler had seen him — same black clothes, same red beanie, same grimace on his face.

“Blurry, stop,” Tyler blurts out.

“Blurry? What the f- _what_ is he?” Josh starts and trails off as Blurry gives him one angry look.

Tyler wishes he could sink through the ground, straight to Hell and take his clone with him. Josh is definitely not happy to see two _Tylers_.

“My name’s Blurryface, and I’m here to do something Tyler is not able to finish,” he explains, cracking his knuckles with a slight pop and stopping in front of Josh. 

“You know him?!” Josh hisses, releasing his sleeve out of Tyler’s grasp. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

Tyler has no answer to spit it out of his dry mouth.

“Tyler likes secrets, am I right, Tyler?” Blurry teases, taking one more step towards them. “You know, it was so much fun — messing up with your head, you’re a total psycho, you know. One little thought and our Tyler is bleeding on the bathroom floor, ‘oh no, Josh, I didn’t do that!’, remember?”

Yes, Tyler remembers. He counts seconds before a Big Disaster.

“Where’s Jenna?” Tyler inquires.

“I don’t know,” Blurry waves his hand towards the edge of the cliff. “Maybe I killed her, maybe I didn’t, and guess what? You’re gonna believe every word I say now,” he continues to move, but Josh throws his arm in front of him. Blurry stops dead in his tracks. “Wow, man, you’re breaking the rules!” he affectedly rolls his eyes.

“I don’t fucking care,” Josh says, jerking his hand and forcing Blurry to stay in place.

“And what if I use my powers, huh?” Blurry folds his arms on his chest.

“Where’s she?” Tyler repeats, anger turns his chest to an erupting volcano.

Blurry’s confidence slowly fades.

“Why can’t you just accept your defeat?” 

“The war’s n-not over,” Tyler snaps.

Blurryface can’t step over an invisible barrier and wrinkles his nose in disgust.

Tyler can see a straight razor gleaming in his black palm. Such a familiar thing.

“Let’s play a game, Tyler,” Blurry says, still not crossing the line of the energy dome. Josh lowers his hand a little, drops of sweat roll down his temples.

Tyler isn’t sure how for long Josh can hold it.

“You have the right to pick our next victim,” Blurry offers. “Josh, Jenna or your friends from the mental institution, don’t be shy, just tell me a name!” he stops again, eyeing Josh. “Stop thinking about breaking my neck, Josh. I can order Tyler to go and bash his head on a stone, and we all know he’s too weak to fight against me,” he adds, his voice is a pure honey. Tyler feels sick.

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” Josh says.

“You were,” Blurry cuts him off with the clap of his hands. His lips twitch to say something else, but one millisecond later the night sky explodes above their heads with a humming sound.

At first, Tyler thinks it’s the stars begin to fall, splattering on the ground like a glossy shower, then he finds himself lying on the patch of grass as Josh pushes him out of the epicenter of whatever it is.

 _They_ always come without warning.

Josh roars, Blurry drops his razor, Tyler loses his footing again, as soon as he makes a weak attempt to get up. The sky is black and white, other colors just don’t exist, the grass is black, the ground is hard — Tyler falls again, not due to his clumsiness — his head feels like something is squeezing it, he plummets down.   

Josh keeps holding the dome all around them, gritting his teeth and letting out guttural noises as something from above aims the ray of light towards them, hitting the dome and crashing against it, thin shiny streamlets freeze in the air, slowly trickling down to the ground.

The sound grows louder, hurting Tyler’s ears, his brain; Josh’s nose is bleeding, his face is pale and his lips are bright-red from blood. Tyler can see the outlines of the spaceship in the sky — a huge metal sphere keeps spewing the rays of light, keeps bashing Josh and Tyler’s hiding place, but it seems like it can’t get through the invisible walls of the dome.

Blurryface is standing outside, hypnotized, staring at the UFO and not doing anything, not hightailing, not struggling, just waiting. From his position on the ground Tyler can see the blood dribbling from Blurry’s nose, on the front of his black t-shirt. He’s an easy target, so the spaceship encloses him into an aureole of light, scanning him, lifting him up; Tyler keeps watching it with his palms clamped over his ears, he’s hypnotized as well, but then Josh elbows his side.

“Run,” Josh exhales tiredly. “They don’t see us.”

Blurry’s toes don’t touch the grass anymore, he keeps swaying a few feet above the ground as the light gradually sucks him into the flying sphere. His head is tilted forward, lolling to his shoulder as if he has lost consciousness.

Tyler’s feelings return back to him — his body aches even when he just takes an uneven breath, the fear presses on his chest like a gravestone. Josh wipes his nose on his forearm and helps Tyler up on his feet. Surprisingly, Tyler’s nose isn’t bleeding — his ears are. He notices it when he looks at his shaking palms. His fingernails turn blue from cold.

“Run,” Josh repeats, louder.

The light and the UFO begin to follow them as soon as they begin to move, step by step, still covered by the energy dome. There’s no way they can make it to the car successfully, the spaceship shines like a spotlight above their heads, Blurry’s body hangs limply in the air.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” Josh groans.

There’s no protection anymore, and the cold air blows directly in Tyler’s face as Josh tugs at his arm, stumbling on the stones. A withered grass rustles beneath their shoes, a bright light is burning their backs as they run towards _nothing_ , towards the edge of the cliff. The splashes of water grow louder, but not as loud as a shrilling noise coming from a shining sphere.  

Tyler balances himself against Josh as they stop near the edge, Tyler looks back, eyes burning from the brightness of a thick ray of light.

It blocks their way to retire. They will _never_ make it to their car safely.

Josh yanks at the back of Tyler’s shirt, turning him back face to face with the precipice.

“There are no rocks below, at least I can’t see them,” Josh blurts out.

Tyler’s words are caught up in his throat.

“I… I c-can’t do this.” 

“We have no choice,” Josh informs him.

Tyler knows it’s stupid.

Tyler is a terrible swimmer.

The shining behind his back reveals the dead water below, Tyler tries to convince himself it’s not that high, really, they can land into the water and then swim, and then-

The sphere is soaring above them, the light isn’t touching them yet.

The next thing Tyler realizes is that Josh is gripping his wrist, and he’s falling, falling like an Alice down the rabbit hole; he manages to throw his head up and make sure that the UFO doesn’t chase them anymore. With that, his body hits the smooth surface of the lake, the water just locks him in the trap, lungs filling with cold.

Tyler can only swim when he feels the bottom under his feet.

Well, there’s no bottom.

Tyler panics, gasping for breath but getting a mouthful of water instead of air; he clings to Josh, coughing and spluttering, trying to use Josh as his personal swim ring. This doesn’t work though, Josh’s head disappears under the water, and Tyler panics even more, throwing his arms up and kicking his legs, his clothes are as heavy as armor.

“Ty-Tyler, I’m tryin’ to help,” Josh spits, keeping his head above the water again.

Tyler can’t muster energy for the response- there’s no place to hide, they’re going to drown right there and then, and Josh’s attempts to save their lives mean nothing-

Tyler sees the bubbles of air in the water as it keeps torturing his lungs. Josh is spitting and hacking next to him, trying to catch Tyler’s arms, but Tyler fights, thrashing in the waves and swallowing more water. It tastes like slime.

“Stop it!” Josh begs, pressing Tyler’s back to his chest. “I’ll… get…” he gasps. “Us… out.”

Tyler can’t stop moving, he wants to swim towards the rocks, but ends up sniffing the water and choking again. He nearly head-butts Josh in the face, but Josh dodges the blow.

“Just…” Josh coughs up the stream of water, one hand wrapped around Tyler’s torso. “Wanna save,” he helps Tyler lift his head and breathe a little. “Us,” Josh finishes.

“N-no,” Tyler whimpers, slapping Josh’s hands and sending both of them a few inches underwater.

Josh rakes in the water with his free hand, reaching for the surface again.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his hand is not gripping Tyler so hard. Tyler looks at him, processing what he has just said.

And Josh punches him right in the jaw, immediately yanking him back to Josh’s chest. Tyler feels his head falling back, hitting Josh’s shoulder as he drags him through a thick water.

Tyler can’t fight anymore, can’t swim, can’t even open his heavy eyelids as the darkness around him is getting even darker.

        

***

Slap. Slap. Slap.

All he knows is that there’s the trickle of unclean water running down the corner of his mouth.

“…breathe. Oh God, Ty, breathe!” a raspy voice above Tyler’s head roars.

Another slap. Tyler’s cheeks sting from cold and countless slaps, and the pressure over his ribcage is unbearable. His eyelashes are still glued shut; Tyler feels nimble fingers pinch his nose and pull his mouth open, and then there are cold lips pressed against Tyler’s — he chokes on the liquid that’s coming somewhere from the inside. His savior repeats the procedure over and over again; Tyler begins to cough wetly, and his head hurts, hurts, hurts so bad he’s afraid he might lose consciousness again.

“Hey?” another slap, more gentle this time, a light brush of fingertips against his cheekbone. “Breathe, I just need you to breathe.”

This is definitely Josh’s voice.

Tyler spits the water in Josh’s face and opens his bleary eyes. The real world welcomes him with black clouds on the sky and a worried — scratch that — terrified Josh.

“I thought I lost you,” Josh whispers, pressing his palm to Tyler’s cheek.

 _‘I thought I will never wake up,’_ Tyler’s brain prompts.

Tyler’s thoughts are interrupted by a coughing fit, he keeps spitting the water as Josh helps him roll onto his side and suddenly slams his fist between Tyler’s shoulder blades.

“You weren’t breathing when I dragged you out of the water,” Josh says, squeezing Tyler’s shoulders and shaking him hard.

Tyler gasps again, hacking violently and nearly gagging from consuming too much oxygen into his deflated lungs. He can still feel icy cold water bubbling in his chest and stomach, and he can’t get rid of fear; he’s terrified that the water might destroy him from the inside, it keeps filling him up, and Josh starts hitting his back again, but it isn’t helping.

Tyler just tries to inhale, but a hard punch of Josh’s fist against his spine makes him choke on air, and more water goes dribbling out of his nostrils and open mouth.

“Breathe,” Josh keeps repeating. “Breathe.”

Tyler’s arms feel too weak to move; he can’t even prop himself up, slumping his chest into the ground; he swallows back his angry tears, his throat is on fire — he can’t even plead Josh to stop crashing his vertebras.

Josh might just beat him to death while trying to save him.

Tyler spits the mouthful of something liquid-y on the wet grey stones in front of him; he tries to cough up some coherent words to let Josh know he can breathe on his own, but only starts to retch instead. He doesn’t have anything in his stomach, only the filthy water comes up, Tyler’s lungs are swelling when Josh’s palm slaps his back again.

“Breathe,” Josh orders. It seems like Josh doesn’t even understand he’s hurting Tyler, he shakes and pokes and punches him and begs him to breathe.

Tyler keeps coughing, his vocal cords refuse to work, so he just rests his pounding head on his forearm and begins to cry silently. He deserves this. His shoulders are shaking, and his eyes are closed again, he wishes he could control the tears, but the salt keeps burning his eyes. Tyler muffles his sob against the wet fabric of his sleeve. The distressing sound probably clears Josh’s head a little, because the pain in Tyler’s head and neck subsides, and he’s finally able to take a ragged breath.

“Tyler?” Josh’s voice sounds different. Less aggressive, Tyler can say. “Are you… Are you crying?”

“M-maybe,” Tyler flinches at how broken he sounds.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Josh fumbles to roll Tyler over. “I thought I lost you.”

 _‘You’ve almost killed me,’_ Tyler bites his tongue not to let nasty words be said. He doesn’t have a right to blame Josh.

Josh tugs at the back of Tyler’s collar, urging him to sit up and lift his head up. They’re not on the top of the cliff, Josh has apparently just dragged him out of the water and laid him down onto the nearest stones. Tyler’s jaw still aches, his cheeks hurt from being slapped repeatedly, his throat is so sore he can’t even swallow a bitter saliva that floods his mouth again. Tyler lurches forward as much as Josh’s hands wrapped tightly around his waist let him and spits it out, wincing at the streaks of bile mixed with water in the puddle in front of him.

“Mouth-to-mouth can make you vomit,” Josh informs him. “You’ve gulped tons of water.”   

“I’m aware,” Tyler mutters, wiping his chapped lips on his wrist.

“Your skin turned blue. I wasn’t sure if I could even feel your pulse,” Josh says shakily.

This is the first time for Tyler to turn his head and look at him — the dark bags under Josh’s eyes, light purple bangs stick to his forehead like a wet curtain. Josh sniffs and wipes his nose, leaving a bright red smear on his nose ring. Holding a dome for such a long time has taken a lot of Josh’s powers, a nosebleed is a normal reaction to that, even though Josh is not the one who’s usually suffering from that thing. The cut across Josh’s bruised chin is bleeding, too, small red beads gathering and rolling down his pale skin. Tyler can’t figure out when Josh managed to get this.

“Lemme see,” Tyler asks wearily.

“No, it’s fine,” Josh sniffs again before shaking his head. “We… I am sorry, I fell on top of you while hauling you out of the water,” Josh’s teeth chatter as he speaks. “Tried to dodge and kind of tripped over,” he presses his palm to his chin. “It’s nothing, I didn’t even notice that, because you weren’t breathing, and I thought you were already dead…”

“Stop,” Tyler hisses out. “I’m still alive, s-see?”

“I had to knock you out to restrain you,” Josh responds through the clenched teeth. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Tyler will never forgive himself for letting Josh splash his energy out in front of the spaceship and Blurryface. That could’ve killed Josh. It’s a miracle that Josh was still able to swim with an unconscious Tyler in his arms, despite the lack of energy.

“I’m scared,” Tyler wipes his puffy eyes on his sleeve. “But it’s not your f-fault. I thought I could trust my visions, but-”

“But they took the other guy,” Josh cuts him off roughly. “Not you. Who the fuck is he?”    

Tyler doesn’t want to discuss this topic. Instead, he looks at his untied shoelace, spreading on the ground like a flattened snake. He feels sick, again; he’s afraid to even move even though he still remembers the UFO flying away and disappearing in the clouds. What if it’s still waiting for them? What if it intends to take Tyler to his real home?

“Who’s that guy?”

Josh’s cold fingers grip Tyler’s upper arm and squeeze until he can’t ignore it.

“He will k-kill you, Josh,” Tyler simply says. “And I’m the next victim.”

“Don’t say shit like this ever again,” Josh pushes him; Tyler sways and hits his palm on the ground not to fall to the side.

“I’m telling the truth.”

Tyler’s eyes hurt from crying.

Their clothes are soaked all over, heavy and dripping water; a sudden gust of wind nearly makes Tyler fall over as it hits his back. Josh has more questions, Tyler knows that, but Josh strangles his words in his throat.

“We can’t sit there for forever,” Josh reaches his hand to take Tyler’s and help him up.

“But what if…” Tyler starts, throwing his head back and looking at the sky cautiously.

“It’s not there,” Josh snaps. “Okay. Stop crying,” he adds, voice soft this time.

“I’m not crying… anymore,” Tyler breathes out a puff of cold air.

Josh hisses through his clenched teeth and rubs his shoulders vigorously as the wind covers them with its embrace. Tyler’s body feels weird as he begins to walk, climbing up a thin path of grass and stones to reach the top of the cliff in the shortest way. He’s not in his best shape for hiking, but well, he has to focus on not falling face first in the dirt. Tyler now sees that it wasn’t even terribly high, but the lake was hella deep anyway.

He huffs and struggles to stay awake as they finally reach the top, Josh’s car is parked a few feet away. Josh keeps shoving him, keeps him upright while Tyler feels like he’s coughed up all of his strength along with the water. The grass looks burnt and yellow, but it seems to be strangely untouched where Josh’s energy dome had covered it. Tyler didn’t notice it when the spaceship attacked them. The car seems to be unharmed, no any dents and the tires are just fine, but that doesn’t mean the aliens didn’t ruin its engine or the braking system. Josh looks scared, searching for the car key in his pockets; Tyler crosses his fingers for luck — and Josh closes his eyes, relieved.

“Found it,” he says, running to the door. He opens it, urging Tyler to go inside first. Tyler imagines how their dirty and wet clothes ruin the brown upholstery and sighs.

Josh immediately turns on the heater core, but the air is unbearably cold. Tyler thinks the ice in his bones will never melt.

“Do you think he’s going to get back?” Josh is already pulling the car to the road.

“Definitely,” Tyler shivers. “They l-let me go back. I think they’re going to just renew him, or something.”

The next question makes Tyler want to disappear.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

Josh doesn’t even turn his head.

“He t-told me not to do that,” Tyler stutters out. “I’m sorry, he- you know, he has something like telepathy, I don’t know, he can fucking control me! Josh, I s-swear, I don’t even remember what I had said!” Tyler covers his head with his hands, pulling at his wet hair.

He vaguely remembers the morning — a faint, then, the taste of blood and acidic saliva in his mouth, a pretty vivid picture of a panicking Josh. Tyler didn’t feel like himself. He remembers the vision about Jenna being kidnapped and tortured, but there was one important detail — Tyler was going to go and check that alone. Alone.

“Bullshit,” Josh’s intonation makes Tyler fall silent. “You know what you said. You said Jenna was in danger and decided to play a knight in shining armor. But instead we’ve met your fucking twin, who is supposed to kill me and the others. Are you satisfied now, Tyler?”

“I couldn’t control that,” Tyler replies almost silently. He thinks he can still feel the dirty water sloshing across his stomach, his internal organs are still drowning. 

“I wish you could,” is all what Josh says in response.

 

***

The ride back home is almost peaceful.

Josh only stops once by Tyler’s request as a sudden attack of motion sickness forces him to stumble out of the car, fall to his knees and dry-heave into the grass by the roadside. He didn’t think the experience of drowning might be so terrifying. Also, he used to feel nauseous after the Contacts, but it has never gotten that bad and painful. The fact of not being able to throw something up doesn’t help either.

“Tyler?” he hears through the rush of blood in his ears. Tyler steadies himself against the tree, one hand wrapped around his torso.

“Yes?”

Tyler is getting chills, wet clothes feel too small and sticky.

“You don’t usually get carsick,” Josh frowns, bringing his palms to his mouth and breathing in between them. “Are you okay to get back into the car?”

Tyler feels like he might actually puke at any second. Like, right now.

“N-no,” he wheezes out as he leans forward and gags again.

“Come on,” Josh rests his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “Anyway, nothing comes up. I don’t want to freeze to death here, get up, we gotta go home.”

“Josh, p-please, wait a minute,” Tyler pleads, his stare glued to the ground between his knees. Josh turns away, looking at the tall and graceful pine tree instead of Tyler.

For a moment, Tyler thinks that Josh is just going to get back into the car and maybe drive away and leave him alone here, in the woods, because he’s _mad_ at him. A strike of anxiety raises a small amount of hot stomach acid up Tyler’s throat. He coughs as it starts to pool in his mouth and finally splatters out.

“Finished?” Josh asks exhaustedly.

Tyler nods mutely, not wanting to screw up something else.

“Get up. You’re not the only one who feels like shit,” Josh points out. “Why do you always puke when I’m near you? Is it a reflex or what? An allergy?”

Tyler isn’t sure if it’s addressed directly to him or Josh just wonders.

“I’ll try to swallow n-next time,” Tyler spits out, limping back to the car.

Josh rolls his eyes.

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty repulsive.”

Tyler rests his head against the window and closes his eyes not to see the trees swimming outside. He even begins to doze off despite his churning stomach.

“Hey, Tyler,” Josh’s voice sneaks into his fuzzy mind. Tyler keeps his jaws locked just in case. “I know you hear me,” Josh continues stubbornly. “We’ll find the way to get rid of this shit, right? I mean, who cares if that dude looks like you?”

Tyler grips onto the seatbelt as the car jumps up on the bumps. He can taste his insides in his mouth again.

Tyler doesn’t want to participate in Josh’s brainstorm.

“Fine. You can pretend to be mute from birth,” Josh concludes, speeding up. “I’m just trying to fix something up.”

The darkest part of Tyler’s soul regrets Josh was able to reanimate his worthless body.

 

***

“Shower,” Josh says, kicking off his soggy shoes in the hallway. “Now.”

Tyler follows him, still not saying a single word; he just watches damp footprints on the parquet and bathroom tiles as Josh rushes to turn the hot water on.

Tyler clears his throat.

“Go first,” he can barely hear himself.

Tyler turns to go to kitchen and drink some hot tea-

Tyler gasps as Josh’s arms wrap around his midsection, manhandling him to the shower fully clothed, even with his socks on.

“No, Josh, I don’t want to-” Tyler chokes out.

“Are you insane?!” Josh exclaims, pushing Tyler into the shower cabin. “Oh God, you’re shaking.”

Josh hugs him tightly, relaxing under the hot jets of water; Tyler’s chest jerks from a harsh breathing as Josh whispers ‘sorry’ into his ear.

“For what?” Tyler asks dazedly.

“For everything,” Josh exhales. “I said I didn’t believe you just because I was terrified.”

Josh reaches for the faucet to adjust the stream of water; it’s pretty hot, but Josh’s skin still feels cold when he tugs his sweatshirt over his head.

“Undress,” Josh tugs at the sleeve of Tyler’s flannel shirt.

Tyler takes it off hesitantly; the tight space of the cabin doesn’t let him move too much. The warmth soaks through his tired and rigid muscles, bringing him back to life.

They’re standing naked on the pile of their crumpled clothes, chest to chest, looking into each other’s eyes.

“I swear, I didn’t know,” Tyler mutters apologetically.

“I believe you,” Josh says. “And always will.”

“He controls me.”

“Not anymore.”

Tyler flinches, getting ready to hear a voice inside his head, but it doesn’t happen.

“He’ll be back,” Tyler whispers through the water running over his lips. “I know that.”  

“No, no, we won’t let him,” Josh soothes. He pulls Tyler closer, hugging him tightly, Tyler’s chin on Josh’s shoulder.

He’s cold.

Josh is still cold too, Tyler can tell it by the goosebumps on his skin. The water washes away Josh’s hair dye, the water turns pink. And Tyler feels queasy again, lowering his head and gagging into the wet skin of Josh’s shoulder.

“Hey?” Josh promptly pushes him towards the tiled wall.

“Sorry,” Tyler hiccups.

“Gonna throw up again?” Josh asks warily.

Tyler’s cheeks grow hot as he shakes his head ‘no’. He promises mentally not to throw up in front of Josh ever again.

He tries to wipe the water off his face, to get away the filth and pain.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you when you got sick in the wood,” Josh says, brown eyes sad. “It’s not your fault you have a weak stomach,” he adds.

“It’s not a weak stomach, Josh,” Tyler spits. “It’s just- I don’t know. I can’t cope. I can’t cope,” he repeats like a broken toy, sliding down the wall.

Thick streams of hot water hit the top of his _always_ aching head, trickling down his back as he sits in the shower cabin, feeling like a crumpled piece of paper. Tyler props his elbows on his — _still bruised, they shouldn’t be bruised_ — knees and covers his head with his hands.

He wants to turn to water as well, to disappear in the drain.

A black ring clings to his hair and scrapes his skin, and there are Josh’s strong hands pulling at Tyler’s, to try and uncover his face.

“Did I hurt you?” Josh asks, voice gentle, almost velvet. “Tyler?”

Tyler’s mind drifts back to recent events — the explosion in the sky, a huge spaceship, the Abduction, Blurry’s sunken eyes, a trickle of blood from Josh’s nose…

It’s too much to endure.

“Did I hurt you?” Josh asks again.

Tyler shakes his head, his brain snaps back to reality. Hot water leaves pink marks on his skin, in addition to his black ones.

“What are we going to do now?” Tyler mutters, crossing his ankles and pressing his knees to his chest.

“I don’t know,” Josh replies bluntly. “If Jenna appears…”

“If she’s alive,” Tyler points out and promptly trails off. He still feels sick.

“She’s alive, I promise. We can try and contact other VESSEL agents,” Josh offers, tousling Tyler’s wet hair.

This gives Tyler hope. He’s going to do a research anyway.

Josh leans to hug him, but Tyler just curls further into himself, putting his head between his knees. He’s pretty sure he’s about to cry, but he can’t.

“Jenna’s my friend, Josh,” Tyler utters. “I couldn’t ignore my vision, I’m s-sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, don’t blame yourself.”

Again, this gives Tyler hope.

They sit like this for a long time, Tyler’s still shaking from the flashbacks and Josh’s trying to comfort him — their usual roles.

They just leave their clothes piled in the shower cabin. Josh says he’s going to wash it tomorrow.

Once they throw on some dry t-shirts and pajama pants, Josh offers to go to bedroom and _finally_ get some rest.

“I, um, I think I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” Tyler says timidly.

“Why? What if you’ll be sleepwalking again?” Josh frowns.

Tyler shrugs.

“I can’t leave the apartment anyway.”

“Alright,” Josh decides after a minute of deliberation. “You need some space, I can get it. Sleep wherever you want- I’ll be in the bedroom in case if you get lonely,” he says with a ghost of smile on his lips.

Tyler tries to return the smile but fails miserably.

Josh shuffles to bedroom, leaving Tyler alone on the couch, hugging a pillow. Tyler lies down, throwing a blanket over himself. He still feels like the collar of his shirt is suffocating him, it’s too hot in the room, but Tyler’s freezing, shaking and biting at his nails. He begins to doze off like this, falling down a rabbit hole once again.

Josh has lost his phone during the drowning incident, but Tyler’s phone has survived the ordeal; it sends vibrations down Tyler’s cheek, buzzing under his pillow. A new bout of nausea hits Tyler as he focuses on the caller ID.

Jenna.

He presses ‘answer’ nearly leaving a scratch on the screen.

“H-hey?”

He sounds like he’s terminally ill.

“Jesus, Tyler, I’m so, so sorry,” her voice creeps in Tyler’s ear, almost tickling the skin. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t respond your messages- me and some agents were trying to avert the shooting in a mental hospital, so I just couldn’t take my phone, I’m so, so sorry, we’d been only using walkie-talkie. Tyler, are you listening?”

Tyler swallows.

“Yes,” he croaks out.

“Our satellite caught some activity a while ago,” Jenna says through the white noise bothering the line. “We haven’t deciphered the signal yet, but I’m gonna be straightforward- Tyler, have you been there?”

A bitter taste slides up Tyler’s throat, slowly gathering in his mouth. He drops his phone onto the pillow and sprints back to the bathroom, making sure Josh isn’t following him. He mostly dry-heaves, hunching over the toilet, spewing a mixture of bile and stomach acid.

Maybe Josh is right and Tyler has a gastric ulcer. Tyler tries not to think of it as his stomach churns and he throws up again, from both anxiety and relief.

Jenna was watching him again. He should’ve known that.

When Tyler finishes, he flushes the toilet and quickly brushes his teeth and stumbles out of the bathroom only to bump into a pretty much worried Josh in the hallway.

“Did you just thr-” Josh starts.

“No, no. I’m fine,” Tyler lies, seeing his beaten up phone in Josh’s hand.

He can even hear Jenna’s voice. She wonders where Tyler went.

“You’re definitely not fine,” Josh purses his lips.

Tyler leans his back against the wall.

“Doesn’t matter. But well, as you h-hear,” he breathes out. “She’s alive.”      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i saw them.  
> i miss them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He catches a glimpse of the silhouette out of the periphery, and somebody’s screaming, crying again, and there are the hands pulling Tyler out of his nightmare before he can fully understand that the two red glowing flashes are nothing but_ his _eyes-_
> 
> “Tyler?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> character death warning

Both of them call in sick.

They don’t discuss Jenna’s mysterious return mostly because they have no energy for it; in the morning Tyler rolls off his couch and enters the kitchen only to find Josh sitting at the table and drinking coffee.

“Morning,” Tyler mutters, rubbing a nasty sleep out of his eyes.

“Morning,” Josh lifts his mug in greeting. “How’s your stomach by the way?”

“Settled down, finally,” Tyler responds with a frown. “I’m really hungry,” he sniffs, heading to the fridge and looking for something easily digestible to have for breakfast.

Tyler has spent the night tossing and turning on the couch and feeling like any sudden move could send him back to retching in the bathroom, but luckily, by the morning time the swarming in his guts has stopped.

Josh just keeps drinking his coffee. Tyler turns away from the fridge and for the first time notices how pale Josh is. He’s almost as white as the sugar in the blue sugar-bowl.

“How are _you_ feeling?” Tyler asks.

“Like a mashed potato, honestly,” Josh says with a faint smile, putting his hand over his forehead.

If it’s Tyler’s turn to take care of his sick boyfriend, shove him under a pile of blankets and make a hot tea for him, he can say he’s ready for it.

Tyler looks at the can of a mushroom soup in his hand and thinks if he has to already resort to drastic measures. Josh quivers, turning his head to the window, and that’s when it finally catches Tyler’s attention, and he nearly drops a cold can onto his bare foot.

Josh has a _mark_. A black, thin-lined mark right behind his ear — something resembling X but with more additional lines which make the sign look like an icon of a direct message in the social network.

“What’s this?!” Tyler exclaims. He sets the can on the table and nearly attacks Josh in attempts to look at the mark closer; Tyler grips at Josh’s hair with one hand, making him bend his neck, and pokes at the tattoo with his index finger.

“Hey, what?” Josh grumbles when Tyler spits onto his finger and begins to scratch the black lines, hoping they’re just ink-stains.

But well, it doesn’t get washed away.

“When did you get this?” Tyler tries to keep calm, but his hysteric mind doesn’t obey him. “Josh?” he grabs at his hair again when Josh ducks his head.

Josh looks up at him in pure amazement.

“What are you talking about?” 

“A mark, Josh, it’s the mark, They have fucking marked you!” Tyler roars, finally taking a step away. “How could you not notice that?!”    

“I, um, I don’t know?” Josh rubs the spot behind his ear, a hint of fear sparkles in his eyes.

“I swear this shit w-wasn’t there when we were taking a shower,” Tyler states. “Gosh, They have marked you, Josh, it’s even worse than I thought!”

Josh probably belongs to an army of aliens, which means they can take him at any moment, catch him off guard-

Tyler chokes on air, eyeing the tattoo covered with Josh’s purple hair.

Accidents are not accidental; if They have already taken Blurry, there’s no way they will allow Tyler or Josh to live peacefully. They marked Josh. Tyler curses himself for his stupidity, furiously, as if this can help him.

Josh is in the hallway, checking the mark in the mirror and turning even paler than a minute ago; he’s just pinching at the reddened skin when Tyler comes in.

“What if it’s an indicator?” Josh asks, his breathing turns to just wheezing sounds.

Icy cold water doesn’t do wonders to your health, Tyler thinks distractedly.

“It is.”

“To what?” Josh blinks and leans his shoulder on the wall.

“To…” Tyler lingers. “That Contact wasn’t like the others, like, we’ve never been so close except that time when I got abducted, and aliens implanted that chip inside of my neck.” 

“And now it got me, too,” Josh agrees. “Well, let’s think rationally- do we know where’s Blurry right now? No. Can we get rid of the mark? I doubt it. Is Jenna safe and sound? Yes,” he nips at the mark. “Do we need to take some rest? Yes,” he finishes.

“But can we do it? No,” Tyler continues with the same intonation.

Josh looks up at the ceiling, and Tyler can hear him counting to five in his head.

“If you think that I’m not scared, I have bad news for you,” Josh informs him. “I’m so damn scared, but it’s natural. We’ll find that creepy guy with your face, I promise,” he adds soothingly.

Tyler suspects they’re gonna meet VESSEL agents really soon. They’re probably gonna break a door and kidnap them from their bed. This is ridiculous.

“Words don’t help.”

“You said you wanted to have breakfast?” Josh suddenly switches the topic. “Well, it’s a good idea.”

Not having any desire to bitch about his eating habits, Tyler goes back to a kitchen counter and pours the soup into the bowl. It’s anything but appetizing.

“Mushrooms,” he sighs.

Josh raises his eyebrow.

“Don’t wanna eat mushrooms?” 

“I doubt I’m able to stomach them right now.”

“I can take mushrooms if you don’t mind,” Josh offers with a soft smile.

Like it’s a regular morning and nothing happened.

“Alright,” Tyler nods. “I’ll just take the broth then.”

And he shoves the bowl into the microwave.

As if nothing had happened.

 

***

The evening brings nothing but Jenna’s visit, and of course, Tyler should’ve expected this. Honestly, he doesn’t know where so start when Jenna makes her way into the living room, pushing Tyler aside almost angrily.

“Explain,” she only orders.

“Explain what?” Tyler asks innocently even though he knows this always pisses her off.

Jenna’s long fingers twitch in her braided hair, tucking blonde strands behind her ear.

“You know what I mean, Tyler,” she says, pursing her lips.

Josh pats Tyler’s shoulder, but Tyler jerks his arm to shrug him off. Jenna glares at him. Nothing unusual.

“You’ve seen the Object,” Jenna utters with an obvious tension in her moves. Like she’s about to fight to protect herself.

“Ah, you’re talking about this,” Tyler quips with a sour smile. “Yeah, we have. We now feel so honored, am I right, Josh?”

Josh rolls his eyes.

“Why can’t you take it seriously when it’s necessary?” 

“Can somebody please tell me what happened?” Jenna screams, not looking any friendlier.

“It’s a long story,” Tyler says evasively.

Tyler’s heavy thoughts block his tongue again.

“Alright. I’m gonna tell you,” Josh decides, playing a role of a peacemaker again.

Tyler doesn’t mind.

 

***

Tyler is sure that one day Jenna is gonna have a heart-attack, and all because of Tyler and his wonderful adventures.

When Josh pours literally all the details of the story all over Jenna (including the appearance of Blurryface and the already known fact of Tyler’s inability to swim), she just stiffens on the couch, gripping a cup of coffee in her tremoring hand.

“I had to punch him so he lost consciousness and stopped drowning me,” Josh says apologetically. “That’s why Ty’s mad at me now.”

“I’m not mad,” Tyler interjects quickly. “I was very close to p-passing out on my own, so you’ve just speeded up the process.”

“…and we have no idea where They’ve taken the other dude,” Josh continues, not paying attention on Tyler’s words.

“And I thought we were there to save you, but… but s-something went very wrong,” Tyler finishes.

“Wrong, indeed,” Jenna mumbles.

Josh coughs into his fist.

“You said you’ve been feeling terrible recently?” Jenna asks, picking one of those doctor-patient intonations.

“Yes, but we’ve just told you about my freaking clone, and you’re still bothered about my health?” Tyler snaps.

“Your health is an important part of this case,” Jenna points out. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’ve just stopped puking my guts out, thank you very much,” Tyler snarls. “Maybe it’s time to do something to save people that are about t-to fucking die?!”

“We’re doing, Tyler, we’re doing,” Jenna shushes him. “We have our own source of information so we’ve checked the Contactees in a local mental hospital, those — you know, the victims of the experiments. Do you understand this?”

Tyler nods.

“We have our undercover agent there, so when she shared the facts with us, me and some agents had to move out and watch it,” Jenna explains. “We just can’t close our eyes when such strange things are happening.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tyler agrees. “Had to believe my dream and nearly killed myself and Josh.”

“We thought that night was going to be our last one, something like this,” Josh begins to speak again.

“Where are the others agents?” Tyler asks.

“Still there,” Jenna rubs her forehead. “I had to leave to meet you guys.”

“And your undercover agent is…” Tyler gives Jenna a questioning glance.

“Oh. Melanie,” Jenna says, avoiding Tyler’s stare.

“Who? Melanie?” pulling at his hair is a habit now. Tyler can’t just keep his hands folded on his lap. “But I thought she was just a nurse there!”

Everybody’s lying. Tyler’s mind is lying to him, too.

“Yeah,” Jenna says timidly. “I should’ve told you earlier.”

“Indeed,” Tyler grumbles.

Melanie did a great job at helping him to arrange the meeting with the Contactees for his non-existent ‘college project’. Jenna had helped him with that as well, but Tyler had no idea they were just using him like an indicator.

“Are they still in danger?” Josh asks, covering his mouth with a fist and coughing into it. His body jerks as he lurches forward and forces the air out of his ribcage. Tyler pats his back blankly, feeling a suspicious warmth permeating Josh’s t-shirt.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jenna responds his question with another question.

“Fine,” Josh nods. Tyler can tell it’s a struggle to hold his cough back. “What about VESSEL?”

“Trying to do our job,” Jenna replies.

“Trying doesn’t mean doing, actually,” Tyler scoffs. There’s this weird feeling cramping in his right temple; Tyler massages the skin there, and then rubs his eye with the heel of his hand.

Jenna’s palms are now placed on his shoulders, shaking him slightly to draw his attention.

“What did it look like?” 

“What are you talking about?” Tyler lifts his hand to reach for his temple again, but Jenna slaps his forearm immediately.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” she says sternly.

“Hey, stop,” Josh interrupts her, getting into a little fight to get her hands off Tyler’s shoulders. “We’re having tough times, alright? Stop pressing on him,” he adds a little too loud.

Tyler zones out, there are blurred dots added to his vision, and he tries to close his eyes shut to protect himself from distorted reality.

“Talk to me,” Jenna insists.

Her voice doesn’t augur well for him.

“I don’t feel good,” Tyler shakes his head, the dots in front of his closed eyes transform to abnormally bright pictures. “And n-never will.”

“Oh no, please, don’t puke on the couch,” Josh fidgets beside him to try and help Tyler get up.

Tyler rolls his eyes — not because Josh is being overprotective of his couch (which probably still has blood stains smeared on it); the picture in his brain overlaps Jenna’s face in front of him, the pain in his head dazzles him.

“What’s going on? Tyler?” and Jenna squeezes him again, Tyler’s head lolls to his shoulder, he feels hands on his neck and on his upper back.

He feels like there’s a DVD disc being inserted right into his busted brain, slashing it and turning it; the images overtake his mind even though he’s not sleeping this time.

 _Tyler steps over a puddle of blood on the linoleum floor, he hears the loud BANGs and a bloodcurdling scream echoes through the grey and white corridor, ceiling lamps are flickering. Panic streams through Tyler’s veins, because this time he doesn’t see the picture with somebody else’s eyes — he’s just a ghost in his own vision, an illusion. He catches a glimpse of the silhouette out of the periphery, and somebody’s screaming, crying again, and there are the hands pulling Tyler out of his nightmare before he can fully understand that the two red glowing flashes are nothing but_ his _eyes-_

“Tyler?”

_Red, black, a short yelp, and the sound of the body smacking the floor with a thud-_

“Blood,” Tyler just makes hoarse sounds instead of talking.

“Is he always hallucinating of blood?”

_The blood in Tyler’s vision sprays the wall._

“Yes, I guess, but,” — coughing — “but those usually were just his dreams. Tyler?”

Tyler is getting tired of being slapped all the time.

_People are fussing around, somebody laughs hysterically, and Tyler just stands like an ice sculpture, melting, no, sweating profusely-_

“They’re dying!” Tyler yells at the person who’s pinning him down the floor now.

“Shit, Jen, he’s burning up.”

“Hold him still.”

Tyler wants to hit somebody. His body convulses involuntarily.

“He’s kicking, oh damn, Ty, stop fucking thrashing!”

“Open his mouth.”

“What?!”

“Josh, open his mouth, it’s a fucking order!”

_A shadow cocks its head and winks at Tyler, red eyes send shivers down Tyler’s spine. ‘The war’s not over, you said? Yeah, T-21, it’s not.’_

A pain in Tyler’s jaw, a hand cupping his chin, a pressure on his bottom teeth as if somebody tries to use them as a handle to keep his mouth open. A chalky taste on Tyler’s tongue, humming, swearing; Tyler squirms and locks his jaws, clamping something between his teeth before spitting it out along with a small round piece of chalk.

“Crap, he bit my finger,” the pressure over his jaw subsides. “Josh, keep holding him, I gotta go get a syringe.”

“Help,” Tyler pleads weakly. The drool dribbles down his cheek, somebody’s rough palm wipes it clean.

Tyler doesn’t want to get knocked out, he has to tell them about a terrible vision he’s just had, but he just goes limp, and his back is killing him, and his right bicep burns and hurts, and there’s nothing good about it.

He thinks he opens his eyes.

“Hey?”

Tyler blacks out again, but he feels a long sleeve of his shirt being rolled up, sees a faint light shimmering through his closed eyelids, hears an amazed ‘what’s this’ and even manages to imagine a needle puncturing the crook of his elbow.

The sedative kicks in instantly.

Tyler is floating underwater, his consciousness fades away, limbs too clumsy to coordinate himself. There’s the buzzing right above his ear-

“I have the same mark.”

 

***

When Tyler comes to, a certain jolting in his abdomen is almost unbearable; he’s grateful that his bladder hasn’t relieved itself while he was unconscious. There’s no Josh or Jenna in the bedroom, so Tyler pulls himself out of the blanket tucked all over him and intends to make it to the bathroom as quick a possible not to disgrace himself even more than he already has.

It feels like it’s gonna be a long journey since Tyler’s vision is still a bit doubled.

He’s sure he hears a muffled crying coming from the kitchen, the door is closed, and Tyler stops for a second to figure it out, but his urgent need to pee prompts him to go and deal with his natural needs first.

Once he’s done with his business in the bathroom, he splashes his face with the cold water from the tap and gives up to the memories about his recent nightmare.

The thought of a bloody pattern on the wall makes him shudder and spit a mouthful of sourish saliva into the ceramic sink, his heart is hammering in his chest. Tyler is almost certain that the broth he ate in the morning is about to escape from his stomach, but it doesn’t happen.

He takes a few deep breaths, then splashes his face with water once again and shuffles towards kitchen, supporting himself against the wall.

He pushes the door open and leans against the doorframe not to lose his footing as he sees the disturbing scene right in front of him — Jenna’s wiping her face on a paper tissue and Josh rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Both of them turn their heads to Tyler as he walks in. Jenna’s eyes are red-rimmed, the tip of her nose is pink.

“You’re awake,” Josh says with relief. At the same time, Jenna storms off her chair and rushes towards Tyler, catching him in a bone crushing hug and shedding tears on the front of his shirt.

“Zack Hall is dead. He has been murdered along with the two of the Contactees,” she sobs. “We… we failed. It was in your vision, right?”

Tyler nods. It’s hard to talk right now when his throat is so tight he can barely swallow. Tyler remembers Zack. And apparently, Josh still remembers Zack’s fists.

“You were right, Tyler.”

Josh breaks into a coughing fit, leaning on the table and pressing the hem of his t-shirt to his lips, cheeks reddening.

“I’ve had a short talk with Merrick, and he said… he said you were in a mental hospital, but we all know you couldn’t be there, right?” Jenna blinks the beads of tears off her eyelashes. “You were here with us, you’ve had a seizure and I had to make an injection, but…”

Tyler chews on the dead skin flaking off his bottom lip.

“The murderer had your marks. He also had a ski mask on, but Merrick was sure he saw you, Tyler.”

Of course.

“Ty, check your new mark, it matches mine,” Josh croaks out, the lower part of his face is still covered with his t-shirt.

Tyler remembers the stinging in his arm before passing out. He fumbles to yank at his sleeve and reveal a faintly gleaming marks on his forearm. Carpe noctem. Like he’s never noticed this before — well, he’s noticed, of course. He just wasn’t sure that they were letters. And there’s a tiny bold X right above the crook of his elbow, still red at the edges, black lines are a bit thicker than on Josh’s mark. But they match anyway.

Tyler is surprised that the marking thing didn’t wreck Josh: he didn’t even notice getting it, and Tyler is so envious now. Josh is strong and Tyler is just a failure. 

Jenna keeps saying something, but her incoherent words just swim past Tyler’s ears as he keeps his glance locked on his arm, hypnotized by the gleaming.

It’s not just a _mark_ , it’s his personal curse.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

“No, I can’t give a phone to Tyler, because he stopped talking _again_ ,” Jenna hisses in a loud whisper as if she’s a teacher scolding somebody’s ignorant child.

In fact, that ‘ignorant child’ is Merrick.

“No, I’m not taking him to the lab! _No_ , I said. It wasn’t Tyler, so don’t ‘he’s a killer’ me!” she shouts, nearly tearing up again. “Yeah, funeral, I remember. Wanna talk to Josh instead?” Jenna hands her phone to Josh. Josh shakes his head. “Josh doesn’t want to talk to you, and neither do I, bye,” she hangs up.

Tyler isn’t sure if he has a clue of what’s going on. He’s never gotten his marks without meeting Contactees, and the fact of being the witness of the UFO appearance is the only explanation for that. Tyler keeps rubbing and nipping his sign, mentally recalling for his vision. _Not a dream._ It was like a livestream of those terrifying events directly to his head or like a 3D movie. Tyler’s skin crawls at the thought that this might happen again.

The only way to get out of this shit is to ensnare Blurryface, to kill him, but he’s always one step ahead of Tyler.

Josh throws his arm over Tyler’s shoulders, murmuring calming things into his ear and trying to smoke Tyler out of his shell, but Tyler is still dumbstruck.

Words aren’t helping anyway.

Jenna’s phone rings again.

“Yes,” she says patiently. “This evening, I guess. Can Brendon send a car or something? Good,” she’s clearly about to bite her invisible interlocutor. “Nothing good, okay. No, he’s still not talking, and I can’t make him do that, bye again.”

Merrick is mad and ready to battle everyone, Tyler can hear him from the other end of the line.

“…babysitting this mute mutant kid…”

This sounds offensive.

Tyler presses his palms over his ears not to hear anything, just a rush of blood to his head. He hunches forward, propping his elbows on his knees and squeezing shut his bloodshot eyes.

Josh turns away, coughing again. Tyler wonders why Josh isn’t taking his cough medicine. Maybe, they just don’t have any, Tyler isn’t sure.

“…their blood, okay, I can do that,” Jenna sighs, throwing her phone on the couch next to Tyler.

Tyler’s palms can’t block all the noises.

“What are you doing?” Josh asks worriedly.

Jenna unpacks one of those way too familiar syringes.

Tyler struggles feebly as Jenna pulls at his arms to outstretch them.

“Just need to take your blood,” Jenna explains softly. Tyler doesn’t look up at her. “Just a little.”

“Why?” Josh eyes the equipment nervously. The disinfectant cools Tyler’s skin.

“The Contact could change his blood composition,” Jenna explains, sinking the tip of the needle in Tyler’s vein. He shudders. “Josh, you’re next.”

“Me? Why?”

“You got marked.”

“And so what?” Josh snaps at her. “I couldn’t do anything! And we all know that Tyler didn’t kill Zack!”

“We know,” Jenna nods.

Tyler watches silently as his blood gathers in a transparent barrel of the syringe. He can’t focus on anything else. Finishing, Jenna makes him press the cottonwool to the crook of his elbow and takes another syringe.

“Josh, it’s your turn.” 

Josh reaches his arm out, scrunching his nose up as the procedure starts.

“I hate that,” Josh mutters.

Tyler hates that too.

It ends quickly.

“You did great,” Jenna comforts Josh, handing him a piece of cottonwool to press it to a tiny red speck. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Tyler?”

Tyler shakes his head.

“I can stay in case you want to talk.”

Tyler doesn’t want to talk in general.

Jenna puts the syringes into a portable medical fridge.

Josh voices Tyler’s thoughts before they even sneak into his head.

“You brought so much equipment,” he gives a quick look at his arm. “And you didn’t hesitate to use a tranquilizer when Ty freaked out.”

“I had to,” Jenna says dryly, rubbing her thumb across Tyler’s bicep. “Because he spat out the pill I tried to give him.”

Tyler’s head is still screwed up from the serum or drug or whatever it was. The dose was probably too strong, Tyler can barely keep his eyes open even though he knows he can’t pass out again.

“Did you see it in details?”

This question is like Jenna’s finger poking a purulent wound in Tyler’s brain and begins to scratch it. Tyler covers his ears again, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Tyler, you can just nod — yes or no. Did you see _everything?”_

“Jenna, stop it,” Josh begs. “Give him some time to recover.”

A gun. A glossy puddle of blood spreading on the floor like a fake ocean. The bodies. Red eyes. Enough details to collect a puzzle.

“Tyler?”

Tyler nods.

“Oh God.”

He doesn’t want to be a part of this anymore.

“Josh, I gotta go. Call me if he’s getting-”

 _If he’s getting worse_ , Tyler finishes the sentence in his head.

“Okay.”

“If he begins to speak, call me too.”

“He’s still here, Jen.”

Tyler sniffs and buries his face in his knees, interwining his fingers on the back of his neck and trying at least to breathe evenly. The footsteps travel away from him, _tap, tap, tap_ towards the hallway, and Tyler still can’t bring himself to move.

His mangled mind will never be clear again.

The sound of the door being slammed shut makes Tyler flinch and shrink. The ghosts of images keep torturing him, but he has no voice to scream. Josh is right beside him again, patting his upper arm and humming something under his breath.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Josh exhales hoarsely.

Tyler’s heart flutters.

“Can’t even imagine how scary that vision was,” Josh continues, slowly pulling Tyler closer. “You’re safe now.”

Josh lies. But Tyler is about to believe him anyway.

“How can I help?”

Tyler sniffs again, eyes burning, nostrils burning, chest burning too.

“You can cry if you want. It’s hard, I understand that.”

 _‘You don’t understand how it feels when your body doesn’t belong to you anymore,’_ Tyler wants to say but just heaves out a pained sigh instead.

He hates himself for his weakness.

“It’s okay, Ty, it’s okay.”

Tyler whimpers and leans against Josh’s chest, clinging to him and letting Josh hug him tightly. He’s almost sure he could help those people, could save them, but he’s too slow, his brain is too slow. Josh shifts on the couch, rocks back and forth, occasionally whispering that Tyler doesn’t have to blame himself. Tyler’s face is pressed to the front of Josh’s t-shirt as he feels his body relaxing a little, the weight over his ribcage is gone, the noose over his neck doesn’t squeeze his vocal cords.

Shadows hide in the corners of Tyler’s subconscious. He knows they’re gonna return, but at the moment his brain is healing itself.

“I like it,” Tyler mutters, voice muffled by Josh’s t-shirt.

“Like to sit like this?” Josh sounds surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Does your head hurt?”

“I c-can’t understand. It’s n-numb,” Tyler stammers out.

Josh is really warm. He shouldn’t be so warm.

“Feeling sick?”

“N-no,” Tyler blinks as if his eyesight is going bad. He feels more alive now. “I d-didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, that kinda looked like an exorcism session,” Josh chuckles gloomily. “I can’t find another description. Jenna wanted to solve all the problems with a pill, but apparently, you didn’t like it.”

“I hate pills, like, she always tries to shove them down m-my throat, and then I kinda can’t remember my own name,” Tyler says. “But injections are much worse, because I pass out immediately and can’t protect myself… Why does everyone treat me like I’m just a m-monster?”

It’s a rhetorical question.

“You’re not a monster. You were really close to hurting yourself.”

“You were really close to breaking my jaw,” Tyler backchats.

“I’m sorry,” Josh coughs up, putting his hand over his mouth.

“I can help,” Tyler offers.

“No, don’t do this,” Josh protests in between coughs. “You have to regain your energy or something. It’s okay, it’ll pass.”

Tyler is drained and empty.

When he blinks, the red glowing eyes are there, drilling holes in his skull.

 

***

Nothing happens in the next two days, and Tyler starts to hope that his nightmares aren’t chasing him anymore. No Blurry. No blood.

Jenna keeps annoying him with her calls and she yells at him, because she’s found those ‘alien genes’ during the blood tests again. And she insists that Josh has to go to a doctor, because his blood test detected the inflammation.   

“Josh, you’re sick,” Tyler concludes when Josh doubles over and begins to cough uncontrollably, his body shakes as he urges himself to take a breath.

“It’s just a cold,” Josh grumbles, leaning back on the pillows.

“It’s the consequence of drowning in the cold water,” Tyler says.

“Yes, but it’s just _a cold_ ,” Josh repeats himself and sniffs. “I’m gonna be fine tomorrow.”

“You have to take something for that fever,” Tyler points out.

Josh sniffs again.

“Yes, Mom.”

 

***

Josh doesn’t feel better the next day, and Tyler is really about to drive him into a corner and heal him, but Josh glares at him and grunts something like ‘don’t care about me, care about yourself’. They’re still staying home, but Tyler’s boss keeps calling him since 8AM, and Tyler keeps ignoring his calls successfully. He’s just washing the dishes in the sink when his phone buzzes again; Tyler pretends he doesn’t hear it.

“You’re gonna lose your job,” Josh interjects accusingly.

“I’m gonna talk to him tomorrow,” Tyler decides. “I hate solving the p-problems on the phone.”

“That’s what we’re doing all the time, by the way,” Josh smirks.

“That’s not funny.”

Josh slaps him with a wet towel.

“Stop pouting.” 

Tyler stops pouting. He just voices his nagging thoughts instead.

“You know, I remember the first time I caught a signal,” Tyler starts, scrubbing the dried ketchup off the frying pan. “I hadn’t even thought that a bunch of wires and my old computer could d-do this work. I thought I was a genius, but it turned out They just… just tried to contact me, to take me back,” he turns to Josh who is waiting for more. “What if it’s just my hallucination? Like, what if I really had a family, a different name, maybe?”

He wants to wake up one day.

Josh’s voice is rough after coughing.

“Gonna say you’re just one of those brainwashed dudes?” 

“Exactly,” Tyler shakes the foam off his hands. “N-nothing feels real.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about since the moment I first saw you,” Josh chuckles.

“Really?” Tyler re-asks.

“Yeah, I was like ‘is this dude okay?’ but then I realized you weren’t, no offence,” Josh replies before turning away to clear his throat.

“I thought I was okay when I got money from selling my recordings,” Tyler sighs guiltily. “That’s why VESSEL hates my guts. Like, they offered me to work for them but I declined, like, I was so brave and independent, huh. And look at me now — I have nothing and no one except you, and I think Merrick was right.”

“No, he wasn’t-”

“You can’t protect me anyway, I can’t protect you, people are dying, and I’m just standing here and abusing this stupid pan,” Tyler throws the pan into the sink and turns the water off.

He suddenly gets an idea how to take advantage of being connected to Blurry’s mind, it’s like a lightbulb shining right above Tyler’s head. Blurry doesn’t miss a chance to trick with their bond, to lure Tyler out of his hiding place. Tyler is completely defenseless against Blurry’s pressure, and the only thing he can do is hurt his enemy with his own weapon. It doesn’t sound like a good plan, but he can at least try even though the thought of this makes him physically sick. Or mentally ill as well.

 

***

Tyler can thank his lucky stars because he doesn’t get fired. Having the conversation with his boss is not the easiest thing ever since Tyler has been skulking for nearly a week without giving any explanations.

“You’ve been acting weird recently,” Michael states. “Are you taking something?”

Tyler twists his forefinger until it lets out a slight crack.

“No.”

“Drinking alcohol?”

 _‘I wish I could get drunk,’_ Tyler’s inner voice complains.

“No.”

He hates every second of being in Michael’s office. His finger bends at a strange angle.

“Any personal problems?”

Yes.

“No,” Tyler says firmly. “I know I should have warned you earlier. You can kick me out of the auto service if it’s necessary.”

“Do you really want it?” Michael asks with a strained smile.

“No.”

Michael has large fists. If he really decided to throw Tyler out of the office, it wouldn’t have ended well for him.

“You can go and work now, Dallon needs your help now- the dude can’t understand what’s wrong with the torque converter in Mrs. Jefferson’s Nissan,” Michael claps his palms as he says so.

Mrs. Jefferson is the worst driver on Earth, Tyler can say. The one, who doesn’t understand why they can’t start their car without keys.

Tyler nods and leaves the office without saying a word.

 

***

Mrs. Jefferson’s car is going to be fine after the replacement of a damaged torque converter seal. By the end of the shift Tyler’s nervousness takes its place deep in his heart again — he evaded thinking about Josh all day, but Josh hadn’t even called him during his lunch break, and also, Tyler didn’t feel like one call could fix everything. He didn’t want to be _that kind of boyfriend who_ _doesn’t let you breathe_.

Josh is being late, but Tyler is still waiting for him obediently, sitting on the curb outside of the garage and leaning his back against the metal wall.

“Do you need a ride?”

Dallon’s voice makes Tyler lose the train of thought.

“What?”

Tyler looks up at his coworker, and second later Dallon sits down next to him.

“It doesn’t look like Josh is going to pick you up tonight.”

“He’s just busy at work,” Tyler responds. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“You can still call him,” Dallon utters, narrowing his eyes.

“No, thanks,” Tyler snorts. “Josh _knows_ he has to pick me up.”

The trees dissipate in twilight, and Tyler keeps peering into the darkness covering the road in attempts to catch a familiar silhouette of an approaching car. Tyler perks up as he hears a steady roaring of the engine.

“See?” he turns to Dallon. “It’s Josh.”

Tyler waves him a quick goodbye and runs towards the parking lot where Josh usually stops and waits for him.

It’s one of those days when they’re pretending that everything is awesome.

“Hey,” Tyler smiles, getting into the passenger seat.

“Hey,” Josh tiredly smiles back.

“I was going to ask how you’re feeling, but now I think it’s stupid,” Tyler concludes. “We’re taking you to the hospital tomorrow.”

“Pete wanted to send me back home, but I’m a stubborn guy,” Josh replies with a slight nod of his head. “No hospitals.”

“Oh. Yeah, because you’re p-perfectly okay,” Tyler says sarcastically. He chews his bottom lip, thinking. “I can help you with that, you know.”

Another coughing fit seems to be violent as it gurgles up Josh’s windpipe — he is forced to pull over and wrap his arms around his ribcage. He’s obviously choking on air and mucus, cheeks flushing and thick veins popping up on his neck.

“And you keep telling me you’re okay,” Tyler sighs. He reaches his hand to rub Josh’s back as he rocks forward, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel.

“T’s nothin’,” Josh wheezes out in between the short gasps.

Josh’s fever burns the skin on Tyler’s palm.

“I’m driving,” Tyler decides.

“No, really, I can-”

“You can’t,” Tyler snaps his fingers in front of Josh’s nose. Josh sniffs and cracks his reddened eyelids open. “Josh?” Tyler asks, concerned.

“I think…” Josh’s voice sounds incredibly hoarse, as if he’s been yelling non-stop for ages. “I think you’re right. I can’t drive… right now,” he finishes before locking his palm over his lips and coughing once again.

“Let me take you home and I’ll help,” Tyler offers, unbuckling his seatbelt and then turning to do so with Josh’s.

He can tell it — Josh feels worse when Tyler maneuvers him around the car and shoves him into the passenger seat; Josh groans and buries his face in his hands as soon as the car jolts on the roughness of the asphalt. Tyler tries to keep all the attention on the road but turns to Josh anyway. Josh stares at the black minivan crawling at a snail’s pace a few feet in front of them.

“I can stop if you’re, like, queasy,” Tyler says, lips twitching.

Josh shoots him a death glare.

“I’m able to hold it. I’m not you.”

“Sure,” Tyler purses his lips.

And then Josh begins to cough again, nearly retching from the force of it and promptly wiping his mouth on the collar of his t-shirt, drenched in sweat.

“I’m gonna heal you once we’re home,” Tyler informs him.

“No-” Josh starts but trails off as another bout of coughing makes him double over and spit the phlegm on the floor underneath his seat.

“Ew,” Tyler comments. “Don’t even try t-to argue. I’m done with watching you smearing your germs everywhere.”

He waits for a minute until Josh is able to speak again.

“I don’t like it,” Josh whispers loudly. “It takes a lot of your strength.”

“But it works, at least,” Tyler shrugs.

Blurry will punish him for saving the life of the person he’s supposed to kill dispassionately.

Josh clears his throat to say something which turns to another round of hacking his lungs up.

 

***

“Tyler, you can’t do it when you’re feeling like crap,” Josh protests, words stifled by the pillow he’s lying on.

“I don’t feel like crap,” Tyler comforts him, placing his palms on Josh’s shoulder blades and massaging there slightly. He can already feel the vibes of Josh’s sickness running up his forearms, but he doesn’t let it seep through his skin. Tyler’s chest stings, the oxygen can’t fill his lungs.

“Everything aches,” Josh complains quietly.

“I know, Josh, I know,” Tyler sighs. “Hold on.”

He hates healing because it’s gonna kill him one day, but at the same time he likes healing because it’s the only thing that makes Tyler feel useful.

“No,” Josh wriggles on the bed.

“Josh, calm down, I’m just gonna-”

Thud.

It takes good ten seconds for Tyler to figure out why he can’t feel the softness of the mattress anymore — his right shoulder is half-numb half-throbbing with pain as he pushes himself upright, shaking his head to try and get rid of the zigzags swimming all around his brain.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Ty,” Josh scrambles to sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Josh probably can’t control his powers when he’s sick. Well, Tyler has never seen him _so_ sick before.

Tyler’s body feels like the floor has just attacked him.

“You didn’t know,” Tyler mutters.

Josh takes a step towards him but ends up sitting down on the floor in a rush and leaning his back against the side of the bed.

_‘You can take advantage of him while he’s that vulnerable.’_

“No, not now,” Tyler pleads, covering his ears with his palms.

“What?” Josh blinks at him as Tyler drags himself across the floor and stops right beside Josh, copying his sitting position.

“Thoughts,” Tyler replies suavely. “Sometimes they’re too loud.”

Josh responds with a bitter smile.

“Why are we like this?”

“Dunno. We’re pathetic and broken,” Tyler exhales. Josh’s body emits warmth, it soaks through Tyler’s bones. “Your fever’s getting worse.”

“I don’t think so,” Josh practically shoves his fist into his mouth to smother the cough rattling in his chest.

“Josh-”

“I didn’t mean to push you off the bed, okay? I’m _sorry_ ,” Josh repeats calmly. “Can you please leave me alone? I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I can’t get sick,” Tyler huffs.

“I’m really sleepy,” Josh yawns, ignoring his previous words.

“I can just stay here in case you need something-”

“Tyler. Leave. Me. Alone,” Josh gets up from the floor and pushes himself up on the bed.

Tyler clenches his fists in defeat but plods towards the door as he’s told.

He thinks he can get back later.

 

***

In the living room, Tyler drowns in the incoherent mumbling, coming from the TV. No news about a mysterious murderer in a balaclava. Tyler ponders of how much Merrick hates him now.

Tyler is a trouble, Tyler’s alien gene is a trouble, Zack’s death is a trouble.

 _‘It was your fault, not mine,’_ the voice in Tyler’s mind quips. _‘Because I’m just a creation of your infected imagination.’_

“Shut the fuck up,” Tyler hisses angrily, pressing his fingertips to the side of his pounding head. Mental fights always cause migraines.

_‘I can make Josh cough up blood. Wanna see this, Tyler? I’m sure it’s gonna be fun.’_

“Shut up.”

Josh’s coughing cuts off Tyler’s thoughts like the sharp knife cuts the rope.

“No, no, no,” Tyler jumps off the couch he’s been sitting on for the past few hours and hurries to the bedroom, slipping on the floorboards and smacking his shoulder on the doorframe. “Josh? Josh, can you hear me?”

Josh doesn’t react.

Not good, not good, not good —

“Josh?..”

Tyler climbs onto the bed and rips the blanket off Josh’s shivering body; he lies on his side, curled into himself even though he rarely sleeps in this position. Tyler can see the light purple strands plastered to Josh’s forehead, he feels an abnormal hotness of Josh’s clammy skin. Josh groans, then turning his face into the pillow and coughing into it.

Luckily, there’s no blood.

Tyler feels almost relieved.

He lies next to Josh, spooning him and shoving his hands under Josh’s damp t-shirt, tracing invisible patterns over Josh’s chest.

“Don’t…” Josh mewls into the pillow.

Tyler props himself up with his elbow.

“What?” 

“Takes too much… too much strength,” Josh drawls before slipping back into unconsciousness.

“What takes? Oh, no, Josh, it doesn’t,” Tyler soothes him, sitting up and reaching his hands for Josh’s chest again. “It’s okay, Josh, it won’t hurt me.”

Josh breathes heavily, inhaling deeply, on the brink of wheezing, fighting off Tyler’s hands as he focuses hard on keeping them fixated on Josh’s ribcage. He can literally feel Josh’s lungs swelling and convulsing inside of him, his own organs mirror these moves.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

It’s hard for Josh, but Tyler takes it, his own chest gets tighter as he releases his energy, and the process of painful healing begins. Tyler feels hot, then he feels like he’s diving in the ice bath. He feels a nasty liquid gathering in his lungs, making those squishing sounds with each ragged breath. Josh grips at Tyler’s wrists, too weak to get rid of Tyler’s hands — and Tyler just works like a filter, sucking in Josh’s probable pneumonia; Tyler’s palms and arms are like a passageway.

Josh didn’t hesitate to save Tyler’s life. That’s why Josh isn’t doing well now.

Tyler just wants to return the favor.

Tyler is dizzy, everything in the room swirls like an unclean water in the kitchen sink; he closes his eyes, feeling Josh’s muscles soften underneath his fingers. Josh sighs, then coughs weakly.

Tyler removes his hands from Josh’s chest, palms itchy and wet.

“Josh?”

Josh mumbles sleepily, rolling over onto his stomach and not even opening his eyes. He’s not so terribly hot anymore; Tyler doesn’t feel like he’s lying in the bed with a heater instead of Josh.

“Are you feeling better?”

Josh’s light snoring is the best response.

Tyler blinks away the remaining blur which doesn’t want to get away — he’s so exhausted he can only lean and kiss the X mark behind Josh’s ear before falling asleep lying partially on top of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda sickfic yeah  
> kinda longer than i expected


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘What have you done?’_
> 
> ‘Nothing bad,’ Tyler thinks.
> 
> The whispering turns to roaring —
> 
> _‘You’re gonna regret that.’_
> 
> Tyler knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a little) blood warning  
> (probably) kinky sex scene warning

Tyler wakes up to Josh’s elbow being shoved right into his stomach; Tyler lets out an indistinct groan and rolls over as Josh forces him to keep the distance between them.

“I told you to go and sleep on the couch,” Josh grumbles, slapping Tyler’s wrist as he outstretches his hand to hug him. “I don’t want you to get si- wait, what?” Josh sits up and begins to rub his chest and neck. “Tyler? _What?_ ”

“Um. Surprise?” Tyler smiles sourly. He hopes his good intentions won’t piss Josh off. It’s all that he could do for Josh, to be honest.

“Surprise,” Josh coughs a little, not having any mucus to spit out. “I’m feeling much better, no, I feel _really_ good,” he admits, turning to face Tyler again.

“Good to know,” Tyler smirks. Josh isn’t that pale anymore. He’s just a little tired.

“I didn’t want you to do that, you know,” Josh sighs. “It’s like I’m just using you.”

“No, you’re not using- that’s okay, Josh,” Tyler assures.

“Did it hurt?” Josh asks him mistrustfully.

“No, no,” Tyler shakes his head. “Just felt a bit feverish and c-couldn’t breathe for a while, but it didn’t hurt me,” he says. “I promise.”

“Honestly, I should’ve stopped you,” Josh winces, rubbing his throat again. “That cold wasn’t that bad.”

“It was a pneumonia, don’t even try to lie to me,” Tyler argues. “You were choking on the shit coming out of your lungs.”

“Nothing extraordinary.”

“You were unconscious.”

Josh shrugs.

“Thank you,” he whispers, taking Tyler’s hand, fingers clammy and warm. “Thank you so much, Ty.”

“Anytime, Josh,” Tyler responds. It’s such a relief to finally see Josh gradually getting back to his usual condition.

“Really, I don’t know what happened when I pushed you off the bed,” Josh starts, gently throwing a duvet over Tyler’s shoulders. “It was just like an eruption of the volcano, I don’t know, I didn’t want to hit you… I’m just… I felt so wretched and then got angry because I didn’t want you to use your powers, I didn’t want to see you suffer from _my_ sickness. And that just happened, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not the first time, calm down,” Tyler laughs a little. “Remember when we were training? That didn’t bring much joy either.”

“Yes,” Josh smiles back. “I’m afraid I might break you.”

“It takes two days to heal a broken bone,” Tyler swallows. Unpleasant memories from his past are about to re-appear. Josh notices that — his facial expression changes from calm to worried.

“Your ribs, I remember,” Josh nods. “Still regret I didn’t know you when that happened.”

“It’s fine,” Tyler tries miserably to wave it away. “I’m still not sure why I can’t heal myself fast enough. Like, I can heal a broken bone in five minutes, when that bone isn’t mine, but otherwise- it’s hard to explain. I t-tried to recover, but it wasn’t working. Anyway, two days isn’t that bad.”

Tyler doesn’t like to think back of that.

“I swear I’m not letting anyone kick your ass ever again.”

Tyler doesn’t think it’s something easily providable.

“I’m not a good fighter,” Tyler declares. “But I guess I’m a pretty good healer.”

“You are,” Josh agrees, urging Tyler to lie back down.

The emptiness washes over Tyler’s chest when Josh trails off; the silence isn’t that soundless. Tyler smacks his palm on his forehead, attempting to kill the minds which aren’t his own.

_‘What have you done?’_

‘Nothing bad,’ Tyler thinks.

The whispering turns to roaring —

_‘You’re gonna regret that.’_

Tyler knows. Blurry will try to make him regret of his decisions, but he thinks he’s getting used to an invariable pressure — at least, he hopes so. Tyler only squirms in Josh’s hug when the thoughts begin to slice his brain like a razorblade.

_‘This is not what you’re supposed to do. He means nothing to you, he’s just an anchor.’_

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Josh decides, sniffing the collar of his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

_‘That’s where you can do that.’_

“Yeah,” Tyler nods as if his head doesn’t hurt when he just blinks. “Sure.”

 

***

Tyler doesn’t lament about his hard life too often, not even when the creature from his brainpan doesn’t let him focus on his current issues — that creature _is_ his current issue.

He repeats to himself that he’s ready to face the disaster, to mute a choir of voices, but it just crashes all the invisible barriers and sets itself free anyway. Tyler isn’t sure whose voice dominates in his head right now. Everything is too indecipherable; Blurryface is getting closer to him, and Tyler virtually travels through Google maps to check the locations of the Contactees he can reach for. It’s a shitty plan.

Josh is one of them.

_‘Josh, what do you think about me getting ready to kill you?’_

Bullshit.

Tyler almost giggles when Blurryface transmits his thoughts into his mind again. Tyler doesn’t respond. He wants to bang his head against a slippery wall in the shower until he passes out and forgets about this aliens-involved nightmare.

 _‘I can do this for you,’_ Blurry murmurs.

He’s so _close_ Tyler can almost feel his breathing on the back of his neck.

The beast is about to leap and gnaw at Tyler’s throat until the last drop of his blood soaks through a shattering ground. A constant tension hurts Tyler’s head.

 _‘I think we can deal with it,’_ Blurry prompts.

‘I think we can,’ Tyler agrees reluctantly.

He’s in the kitchen, trying to cook something edible for dinner, and Josh is here too; both of them know a whole nothing about cooking, but it’s a good way to bring their family life up to the next level. It’s better than eating half-stuff all the time.

“You’re not taking care of yourself,” Josh scolds him, softly.

Tyler nearly cuts his fingertip instead of bread.

Josh rarely lets him use a kitchen knife when Josh isn’t watching him. That’s the rule.  

And Josh is right, of course.

Tyler hefts the knife in his palm, and his a bit buzzed imagination paints him a picture of Josh lying on the kitchen floor in the pool of his own blood with a deep gash in his stomach; Tyler closes his eyes to make the hallucination less realistic.

_‘Josh is fine, he’s fine, he’s right here, I’m not crazy-’_

Tyler probably sways, Josh steadies him upright.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“What?”

“See? You don’t even remember,” Josh says dryly. “We don’t need you to faint due to hunger.”

Tyler nearly wishes he could faint again.

“Um. We had cereals for breakfast,” Tyler says to defend himself.

“Right. But now it’s almost 9PM.”

Tyler feels uneasy.

The river of different nuisances makes him forget about everything that’s really important for Josh. Tyler’s stomach grumbles.

“Come on,” Josh chuckles, setting two ceramic bowls on the table. “Chicken soup is waiting. You’re probably still weak after healing me. Let’s eat and chill.”

“Yeah, let’s eat and chill,” Tyler repeats automatically. He _is_ weak.

Days off are his least favorite days.

 

***

Josh’s muscular hands find their place on Tyler’s shoulders, his back is pressed firmly to a damp mattress as Josh’s cock hits Tyler’s prostate with every measured thrust, and Tyler is sad. Not because he doesn’t want to have sex in the middle of their war — it was his idea anyway — the sadness is something that constantly weights Tyler down now.

Josh rocks his hips, swaying on top of him and reaching his hand for Tyler’s abdomen, palm dry and rough as he strokes Tyler’s erect cock. Tyler is about to lose his composure from just this little move of Josh’s wrist, but his delirious mind is hallucinating again.

It works like a slap against his cheek and slows down the process —

There’s a thick trickle of blood streaming down Josh’s busted temple, his grey-tinged skin is sprinkled with cadaveric spots, a long cut crosses the bridge of his curved nose, eyes rolled upwards so hard there are no irises. The phantom appears just for a second like a 25th frame, and luckily, Tyler is able to blink the hologram away without wriggling underneath a  _normal_ version of Josh too much.

 _‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’_ Tyler repeats it like a mantra, ingested by the black hole of anxiety.

“Tyler?”

Josh’s low voice dissects the tornado twirling above Tyler’s head.

Josh’s nose is two inches away from Tyler’s, dim light from the reading lamp pours over the left side of his face, and there’s clearly no blood on his head anymore.

Tyler whines and shoves his hips towards Josh’s fist, but something seems to be off.

“Do I have to continue?”

Tyler’s eyelids droop, he lingers to open his eyes not to be met by another horrendous illusion.

But he doesn’t want to turn Josh down. Getting laid is just a perfect distraction. Tyler accepts the rules — he can avoid being fooled by Blurry all the time — especially now — he just grabs Josh’s wiry forearm and tugs at it, guiding his hand towards his throat.

“What are you doing?” Josh suddenly stops; he is _really_ about to pull out, but it would be too much for Tyler’s liking.

“It’s okay, it’s f-fine, just keep it there,” Tyler shushes him, making Josh’s fingertips dig into the tensed skin under his jaw.

“I’m not gonna squeeze,” Josh pants, pounding into Tyler once again.

“Don’t squeeze, don’t squeeze,” Tyler acquiesces, throwing his head back to expose his strained neck for Josh.

“Tell me when it gets too much.”

It will never get too much, Tyler thinks. There are still tons of air.

Tyler holds his breath, whimpering and shuddering as Josh _gingerly_ holds his hand wrapped around Tyler’s neck, and Tyler really wants Josh to be a little more careless. Tyler wishes he could apply more pressure over his bobbing Adam’s apple, but when he tries to persuade Josh to push harder, Josh refuses, nearly pulling away.

A combination of Josh’s hands on him and Josh’s lube-slicked cock inside of him feels so refreshing and re-energizing that the rusted fetters of Tyler’s mind fall apart.

“Ty, I think I’m gonna-”

So very cliché.

Tyler can tell that Josh comes more instinctively than from an overwhelming pleasure, somewhat mechanically, still frightened by Tyler’s unpredictable quirk. Tyler’s still hard cock twitches under Josh’s weight on top of him as Josh jerks him off harshly; at the same time, the grip on Tyler’s neck tightens without warning and inhibits his unreleased moan. The heat streaks down Tyler’s spine, down his limbs; Tyler is aware his bitten fingernails leave long noticeable scratches on Josh’s bare back — _this_ kind of marking is their secret thing. Tyler races through the vacuum, almost craving to get the oxygen back into his lungs as his come sprays in thick ropes all over Josh’s fingers and on his own stomach.

Josh rolls off him.

He sighs then.

Josh’s hand isn’t even in contact with Tyler’s neck anymore, his visions and nightmares are gone for a while; Tyler plummets from the height of whatever sick bliss it was, blinking at the ceiling that seems to be as far as outer space.

Tyler has never been so close to passing out during sex.

Josh pulls out and wipes his hand on the pillowcase next to Tyler’s cheek. Tyler stares at him blankly.

“Tyler? Are you okay there?”

Tyler coughs to adjust to his newfound ability to breathe freely, throwing his thumbs up and trying his best not to burst into tears from all the frustration and the strangest kind of inner pain that keeps devouring him.

Josh is right here, Josh quickly pecks his sweaty forehead, Josh will never hurt him —

“I’m never doing this again,” Josh says sharply, one hand holding the back of Tyler’s head, propping him up on stained pillows. “This is too risky since your condition leaves a lot to be desired. What are we thinking about?” he repents, grabbing his purple locks and pulling. He’s so concerned he doesn’t even kiss Tyler after the sex.

“I liked it,” Tyler huffs, rubbing his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Whatever. I’m. Never. Doing. This. Again,” Josh emphasizes, eyes gleaming with the well-hidden sorrow.

“Okay. Okay, you don’t have to- I’m stupid, but I just _needed_ it,” Tyler explains though his tongue is just a useless slug. Getting fucked by Josh’s corpse is definitely not his type of wet dreams. “Gosh, why is everything s-so complicated?”

Literally everything. Even their intimate life.

“Just get some sleep, Tyler,” Josh’s voice leaks with sympathy, the bedsheets rustle a little as he turns to the side of the bed and tosses the used condom right on the floor. Tyler sits up to make sure it doesn’t land on the carpet or on their clothes. The lower half of Tyler’s body complains when he tries to move. He needs to lie down.

Tyler’s face grows hot as he hisses from the pain shooting through the small of his back. _Too young to get backaches._  

His throat is sore as well.

Tyler is proud of Josh.

Tyler has to be careful with his experiments in bed.

“Josh, I love you,” he sniffles as Josh joins him under the blanket, still naked, sprawling next to Tyler and tangling their legs together.

“Love ya too.”

 

***

Tyler’s life consists of different incidents: Tyler’s Appearance Incident, The UFO Incident, The Shower Incident, The Abduction Incident and now — plus one — The Choking Incident.

Tyler loathes all of these.

They don’t mention it.

Blurry screams in Tyler’s head sometimes, insinuating that Josh is already dead, and Tyler is late.

_‘You can’t save him.’_

That’s when the Email Incident happens.

Tyler is done with his routine of searching the accidents including any UFO sightings — nothing. This Nothing is so big Tyler wants to punch the whole internet. But Tyler doesn’t need to have another mental breakdown.

He’s just waiting for Josh; Josh went out to buy groceries, alone.

 _No_ , Tyler isn’t hiding.

Tyler glances at the laptop screen and clicks on the icon of his inbox.

 _Yes_ , Tyler is hiding.

He’s terrified in advance.

There’s the new email from the address he’s definitely seen before — xxlab0ratory@vssl.com. Tyler bites at his thumbnail, not wanting to click ‘open’. He’s been introduced to this email address when VESSEL agents tried to recruit him in their — they called it Army. Tyler now thinks they just needed his unique oh-so-alien blood, or his unique brain, or both. Separately from his worthless body and served in a glass jar, probably.

Tyler combs his fingers through his unwashed hair and opens the email.

There’s just one word mocking Tyler.

**Soon.**

Tyler scrolls down the page.

**1 audio file attached.**

The chill air creeps down Tyler’s spine as his nerve endings are screaming in alarm, _danger, danger_ , but Tyler is already tired enough to just give up and download the file.

It doesn’t take long to jump from 1% to full 100%.

It begins to play automatically.

Tyler guesses the ‘song’ within the first two seconds.

_“Are you recording, Brendon?”_

“Oh G-god, no,” Tyler whispers, eyes glazed over as he peers into the player window, seconds ticking on the monitor.

_The chair legs drag heavily across the dust-covered concrete floor._

“ _What the hell are you doing?” Josh’s voice joins the conversation._

_“Gonna ask him questions,” Merrick barks back at him._

Tyler swallows hard.

He didn’t know VESSEL was going to hold _this_ against him.

But he knew that they had filed his interrogation.

But the interrogation had gone horribly wrong.

But Tyler still remembers every tiny fragment.

He wants to slam his laptop, to crawl into the darkest corner and fall asleep for eternity, but instead, he just keeps listening to the audio-version of his plague, skipping it to the middle.

_“Why didn’t you kill me then?”_

Tyler’s voice is high-pitched. This indicates his fear. And Merrick knows it.

_“One little ‘bang’ and your brain decorates the wall,” Merrick bellows._

He doesn’t sound convincing.

Tyler facepalms.

Because Tyler’s instinct of self-preservation betrays him twice per second.

Tyler is so stunned he can’t even jerk his finger to the stupid button and cut off the audio — he’s just sitting at the glass table in the living room, open-minded to the new portions of terror spiking up his bruised inner essence.

_He’s strapped to the chair and there’s no way to go; there’s a painful lump bulging under the damaged skin on his jaw, the demolishing heat of Merrick’s calloused knuckles is still ghosting over his chin. Tyler’s chest might burst open from his staccato heartbeat; Josh is an unwitting visitor, he’s helpless against the agents, and the straps are chaining Tyler, and Josh is chanting hysterically, and Tyler tastes blood, and there’s a glimpse of familiar blonde hair, but the haze is shrouding him —_

Tyler doesn’t acknowledge the door being unlocked.

“What the hell is going on? Tyler?”

As if Tyler knows.

His forehead hits the table, head hurts as his thoughts are just fighting with bombs and guns, nose dripping wet.

The sounds of hard punches are coming from the speakers.

Josh doesn’t waste the time, just turning Tyler’s laptop off.

“Where did you get it?”

Tyler can’t see straight.

Josh urges him to straighten his back and lift his head up, the wetness from his nose runs down his lips, spilling on the front of his t-shirt, on his lap. Tyler wants to wipe all of it, smearing his ruby-red snot down the back of his hand.

“Ow.”

“Tyler, look at me, Ty, if it’s one of your things again I swear I’m calling ambulance-”

Josh grabs him by his shoulders, a little too rough but Tyler doesn’t mind.

“Answer me,” a harsh snap of fingers, once, twice, until Tyler’s eyelids flutter open again. “Is it from VESSEL secret archive?”

“They s-sent that t-to me,” Tyler hiccups up through his short labored breaths.

Josh’s gaze is heavy, making Tyler feel guilty.

“Who did? Agents?” 

“I don’t know,” Tyler says without a hint of confidence. “Just f-found this in my inbox and freaked out, and shit, sorry, I’m bleeding,” he hisses, sniffing in attempts to staunch the flow. Maybe he’s just smashed his nose on the table, he’s not sure.

And Josh holds him, letting him relax in his arms, but Tyler can’t stop shaking from the inner cold when Josh kisses his blood-stained cheek. The red also splatters onto the shirt on Josh’s shoulder, onto his laptop, Tyler reaches for it to clean it up.

Josh kisses him on the mouth which is probably gross since Tyler has the blood drying all over the lower half of his face. _He_ is gross.

“Do they want something from you again?” Josh interrupts Tyler’s mental self-punishment.

Tyler shrugs.

“Always.”

Josh presses his lips into a thin line.

“We need to stop the nosebleed,” he finally says. Tyler feels filthy inside and out.

“It’s stopping,” he shrugs again. “I c-can’t breathe.”

It’s not just a blackmailing thing. Somebody just tries to predict his intentions, his future — he’s still VESSEL’s property, and this is what he gets. Soon.  

Tyler is nothing but a caged animal.

Josh gives him a napkin to wipe the blood off his face, blankly, avoiding looking into Tyler’s hollow eyes. Tyler’s lungs shrink and begin to ache as he notices that his phone is buzzing like crazy in the pocket of his pants. He already knows who’s calling.

He doesn’t feel like talking to her when he’s sure he sounds nasally.

“Yes, Jen?”

“You’re fucking dead, Joseph.”

It’s not Jenna.

“W-what?” Tyler inquires cautiously.

“It’s getting out of hand, and if you think you can keep acting like this, you’re so fucking wrong, Joseph,” a male voice growls.

Tyler distances his phone from his ear.

“She can’t protect your ass all the time, remember that.”

“Alright, Merrick,” Tyler sighs. He has to pull himself together. “What about t-to stop yelling for a second and fucking explain everything? Why do I have the recording of our _conversation_ in the interrogation room? Do you know what I mean?” 

“Tell me,” Merrick snaps back. “You’ve hacked our archive again and you’ve stolen all the files we had about that little shit Dun!”

Tyler’s throat goes dry.

“What?” Josh is overhearing them, eyes wide and mouth ajar as he hears his name.

“I didn’t,” Tyler argues. “I didn’t even have my equipment-”

“Shut up,” Merrick spews the mouthful of venom. “You just couldn’t miss a chance to sabotage our activity, this was your purpose since your first fucking day among humans. You’re a monster, Joseph, you’re dangerous and I’m gonna beat you until you get back to a fucking cosmic dust.”

“Wow, how sweet,” Tyler smirks cynically because that’s how Merrick must remember him. He’s about to continue, but Merrick’s voice gets replaced by a soft girl’s voice.

“Stop it, give me my phone back,” a light clicking. “Tyler, you probably already know what happened?” Jenna asks.

Tyler drops a disgustingly soaked napkin on his lap.

Josh looks at it and turns away squeamishly.

“Yeah, your programmers can’t protect your precious archive properly,” Tyler scoffs.

“It’s like you could do it better,” Jenna fends off.

“I’m not interested in it.”

“What a bummer.”

“I’m only interested in finding my clone,” Tyler clarifies, exchanging puzzled glances with Josh.

Jenna hums into his ear.

“I got a message,” Tyler adds, sniffing again. “An audio recording of Merrick beating the shit out of me. And honestly, I panicked.”

“Something invaded into our database, our software failed,” Jenna says thoughtfully. “And Merrick can’t see past his own nose when your name pops up on the radar.”

“And what do _you_ think?” Tyler slides closer to Josh so he can hear them properly.

“You’re in danger,” she warns. “I think we need to send somebody to watch you until we find the real criminal.”

“Me and Josh don’t need it. We can take care of ourselves-”

“I know, Tyler, I know,” Jenna says. “But since people are dying we can’t take these risks.”

“Jenna,” Tyler says before licking his lips. “I d-didn’t break into VESSEL system. I didn’t kill the Contactees, there are no excuses, but I just want to help and make them feel safe.”

He’s going to reiterate it over and over again until there’s no meaning.

“I want to trust you,” she pauses, voice trembling.

Josh’s fingers tap against Tyler’s knee.

“I want to trust myself,” Tyler croaks out.

Tyler wants to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you next year! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You smell like human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight (almost) non-con warning (probably) because i don't know what might trigger you  
> and yeah it's time to finally tag violence

_‘Don’t make any mistakes, eat healthy and **immediately** call me if something /anything/ happens’._

It’s a daily remainder for Tyler. He’s getting irritated, because Jenna keeps sending this text to him literally every day just changing a couple of words, but the meaning of it always stays exactly the same.

 _‘i saw a weird dream about josh but i don’t feel like talking about it’_ Tyler types back.

Jenna is here in a few seconds.

_‘Was it somehow related to aliens?’_

_‘prolly’_

_‘there were tentacles’_ Tyler sends and chuckles.

His phone beeps in his hand, the next message pops up.

_‘I swear I’m going to lock you in the lab one day.’_

Tyler can feel Jenna’s anger seeping through the screen of his phone.

_‘nah you love me’_

_‘Who told you that?’_

_‘you’_

Josh is reading the whole conversation, peeking over Tyler’s right shoulder like his personal guardian angel.

“Don’t you feel like an asshole playing with her feelings?” Josh inquires innocently.

“I’m not playing,” Tyler nearly drops his phone when Josh asks the next question.

“Did you really see that dream?”

“Nope,” Tyler laughs wholeheartedly. “I watched hentai.”

“I think you have to quit wasting your time on some questionable websites,” Josh deadpans. His cheeks may or may not turn pink.

“Oh come on,” Tyler cringes. “It was boring anyway. And those girl’s moans were quite unrealistic.”

“Well, let me guess- maybe because she was getting fucked by the freaking tentacles?” Josh says mockingly.

“Um,” Tyler scrapes his neck. “I didn’t think of it, to be honest.”

“You’re a literal alien.” 

“That’s why we live together,” Tyler grins, turning away from Josh to keep chatting with Jenna.

_‘don’t be mad’_

_‘I’m not mad. I need to keep you close. You’re connected to the other guy, so, we have to stick with you to keep an eye on him.’_

_‘so ur not joking about capturing me?’_

Jenna’s reply shoots through Tyler’s chest like a bullet.

_‘This might be the only solution.’_

She surrenders before Tyler dies from a heart-attack.

_‘I’m kidding, calm down. I’m not going to send you to the lab, they don’t know what to do with you and your visions anyway. Be careful, bye!’_

Tyler wants to smash his stupid device because it can’t recognize sarcasm. Tyler can’t either.

_‘haha. bye’_

“1:1, I guess?” Josh winks when Tyler tucks his phone under the pillow. He never knows when he’ll be needing it next time.

“That was rather unfair,” Tyler complains. “I can’t even understand her position now! Like, Jenna was playing my best friend, then we kinda broke up, then she appeared only t-to get my ass out of VESSEL, and now I can’t even predict her next step. Like, that invasion has built the wall between me and VESSEL, that son of a bitch just used my methods, and technically, now I’m a criminal. Awesome,” Tyler looks towards the window.

A black sky blinks with the millions of starry eyes.

The sky is observing him.

Tyler’s paranoia kicks in.

Everyone’s pissed since the day VESSEL database had been hacked and the files about Tyler and Josh had been stolen and deleted from the archive, but surprisingly, Tyler feels like it’s none of his business. He maybe gloats even. The agents caught them off guard, they had taken away their powers and nearly forced them to accept their defeat, and even Jenna couldn’t help the fact Tyler had a plethora of bruises littering his face, ribs and back for a long time. Thinking back of it, Tyler suspects he deserved every punch landed on his body, but he definitely didn’t deserve to be strapped and not having a chance to fight back.

 _‘A little birdie is about to fall out of the nest,’_ Blurry’s thoughts cripple Tyler’s mind again. It hurts, it hurts so much Tyler begins to lose his eyesight, and his clone knows it — that’s why he uses the connection so often.

_‘Let’s break its brittle wings so it can’t even try to fly.’_

Tyler doesn’t get Blurry’s metaphors.

When Tyler gets used to current level of pain, Blurry is making an effort to increase it, to smash Tyler’s pain tolerance to pieces and stuff Tyler’s brainpan with the shards of a broken glass. One day it’s gonna work and Tyler is going to cave, because he doesn’t have the guts to finish it by himself.

Josh’s Dad has a gun.

Tyler thinks he can ask him to go and shoot the plates together, but Tyler is going to be that plate.

_‘Don’t even think of it.’_

Tyler wants to wash his brain with the soap to make it pristine.

“Tyler, drink it, here, take it.”

“Wha-” Tyler only parts his lips as Josh makes him swallow a mouthful of cold water. Tyler’s teeth hit the edge of the glass with a slight clank as he leans forward to take another sip and hide an oval pill under his tongue.

“Wash it down,” Josh instructs him.

A smooth capsule begins to dissolve under Tyler’s tongue, soaking in the oral cavity as a bitter taste. He still holds the saliva in his mouth, nearly wanting to spit it out right on the floor.

But Josh keeps being persistent. 

“Take it,” Josh hands him a glass once again.

Tyler downs it in one go. He even lets Josh inspect his mouth afterwards, his tongue, the inside of his cheeks to make sure he consumed his stupid meds.

“I didn’t even need it,” Tyler grouches.

“Did you see yourself? You were rocking back and forth, clutching your head,” Josh responds, keeping his hand on Tyler’s forehead.

“And now I just feel sick f-from all that water, thank you so much,” Tyler bristles. He doesn’t remember swaying. The migraine just blocks his memories sometimes.

“If you don’t want to go to hospital then you have to take your pills.”

“My body rejects them,” Tyler tries again even though he knows it’s pointless. His brain slows down and feels as weightless as a wad of cottonwool.

“It’s you who indices this,” Josh says sternly. “And don’t look at me like this, Jenna told me that you tend to get the pills out of your stomach later. I have to watch you not to let you shove your finger down your throat.”

“I’ve done it just once,” Tyler slurs, mentally scolding his weak body for giving up so quickly. “The other times I just c-couldn’t help it.”

“Just lie down and get some sleep,” Josh insists. “Do you need me to help you get undressed?” Josh tugs at the hem of Tyler’s hoodie.

“Nah, I’m cold,” Tyler drawls. “And I also... I feel like... Drunk and hangover at the same time,” he falls down on the mattress, spreading his arms.

Josh looks at him warily.

“You don’t know what a hangover feels like.” 

“I’m trying to k-keep the pill down. It’s hard,” Tyler heaves out a broken sigh. Josh sits next to him, cross-legged, with his laptop placed on the bunch of blankets in front of him.

“I want the voice t-to disappear.”

“Whose voice?” Josh promptly turns to him.

Tyler puts his finger over his lips.  

“Sh, Josh, it’s not here,” he whispers, leaning on Josh’s shoulder. “He’s telling things. I hate that.”

“You’re not gonna hear any voices tonight,” Josh comforts him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tyler shrugs sluggishly. “I’m afraid to miss something important… This is-s-”

Tyler’s so woozy he can’t even finish the sentence.

He can only pull a hood over his head not to see the ceiling lights. The nausea is still bubbling in his stomach, but Tyler decides to just wait it out. He hears Josh starting a Skype conversation with his sisters and Ashley’s witty remark about Tyler getting high in their bedroom. Tyler just groans and hides his head under his pillow.

“Is he okay?” Abby asks.

“Yeah, his insomnia has been tough towards him recently,” Josh explains after an awkward pause.

This sounds unnatural.

Ashley offers to call later, but Josh assures that everything is just perfect and he can just go to the living room not to disturb Tyler’s sleep; and so Josh does, Tyler doesn’t want to stay alone in the room but the drug in his system doesn’t let him argue.

He can’t even roll onto his side, just blinking a couple of times before dozing off.

 

***

For the first time, he wakes up in the middle of the night by Josh’s quiet snorting into his pillow and feeling safe and sound. Tyler doesn’t have any lodgers in his headspace, which is just great. He doesn’t even feel sick anymore. Tyler takes a deep breath to calm the thumping in his chest and coaxes himself to go back to sleep, trying to figure out what was the reason of his sudden awakening.

The second time Tyler wakes up is early in the morning, the room looks grey and yellow in the transparent rays of light; a distressing gibbering next to his ear makes Tyler break out in a cold sweat.

“Tyler, no-”

Josh’s eyes are still closed as he keeps muttering this over and over again.

“Josh?” Tyler asks sotto voice.

“No, don’t do this, please, I swear I love you,” Josh pants.

Tyler nudges his side.

“Josh, wake up.” 

Josh’s eyeballs are moving under the skin of his eyelids. They look almost purple along with the rings around Josh’s eyes.

“I… I promised, I tried to protect you, but I couldn’t, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” Josh screams out, swatting Tyler’s hand away.

“J-josh, it-t’s just a d-dream,” Tyler’s stutter is here again, but he doesn’t care. He suddenly understands what it feels like being a support for the person who’s having a terrible nightmare bordering on a panic attack.   

“Please, let me go,” Josh begs, grasping Tyler’s forearm so hard his fingers leave white marks on his skin.

“Josh, please, wake up, you’re scaring me,” Tyler whispers pathetically, white spots on his arm mix with the blue color.

“Don’t kill me!” Josh yells hoarsely.

Tyler shudders, reaching his free hand for a glass of water still standing forlornly on the bedside table. There’s some liquid left on the bottom, just enough to splash it on Josh’s pale face.

Josh frowns and coughs and opens his eyes, looking at Tyler’s numb hand in his steel grip.  

“Josh?” Tyler is suddenly afraid that Josh might throw him across the room again, his nausea threatens to return.

“Your eyes… They were…” Josh pauses to catch his breath.

“Red?” Tyler guesses.

“Red and bleeding,” Josh confirms then releases Tyler’s forearm from its trap. “Did I cry?” Josh asks, running his hands over his wet face.

“I’m not s-sure,” Tyler stammers out. “I didn’t know how to wake you up, s-so I poured the water on your face.”

“That was the worst dream I’ve ever had,” Josh says timidly. “I was trying to run from you, but our apartment was just a maze and you were appearing right in front of me out of nowhere, sporting _that_ smirk and holding a blade, and the most horrific thing was that I knew it was _you_ , not Blurry. You were haunting me, Ty,” Josh buries his face in his palms. “Oh God,” he squeaks out.

Josh’s story hurts worse than any physical violence.

“I’d never-” Tyler starts.

“I know, Tyler, I know,” Josh wipes the drops of water with the bedsheets. “It was just a fucking nightmare. Sometimes this shit gets too real, but I’m a grown up boy, yeah?” he manages a crooked smile but can’t hold it for more than a second. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Tyler looks at the bracelet of freshly formed bruises all around his wrist. Josh notices it too.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Josh holds Tyler’s arm up. “I’m hurting you way too much.”

Tyler can’t strangle his nervous laughter.

“Everything is hurting me,” he says when the giggles stop. _Everyone._

“Ha-ha. Funny,” Josh pouts a little.

“I’m laughing n-not because it’s funny, I can’t just wrap my mind over it,” Tyler shrugs. “Nightmares. When you are n-no longer sure what’s real. This,” he sticks his index finger out.

“This scares the life out of me,” Josh yawns and rubs his eyes again.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tyler mutters. A cross-like sign on his left shoulder is heating up, alerting his muscles; it begins to emit a dim gleaming, permeating the sleeve of Tyler’s t-shirt. “Wow,” Tyler rolls up the sleeve to reveal the mark.

“Why?” Josh squints his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Tyler yanks the sleeve back and covers his shoulders with the blanket. He knows.

It’s a sign. Josh should be the next victim, if the words can’t say this then the gleaming can. Tyler’s sure the marks on his right hand were spewing rays of light when the Contactees in the mental hospital were in mortal danger.

“It’s _my_ mark, Ty,” Josh interjects.

“Yeah,” Tyler bites his tongue to avoid the conversation.

This is the time.

“And?” Josh is fully awake now, glancing at Tyler with his eyes wide open.

“My brain is very, very sick,” Tyler confesses. There’s one word — _now_. Tyler doesn’t want it _now_.

The effect of the pill doesn’t let Blurry wake up. Tyler almost likes the medicine Jenna prescribed to him.

“Why aren’t you telling me everything?” Josh asks, getting up from the bed and crossing the bedroom.

Tyler shivers when Josh opens the window and the streams of cold air slide into the room.

“We still have three hours before work,” Tyler unsuccessfully tries to distract him.

Even though he knows neither of them can fall asleep right now.

“You’re spiraling, Tyler.”

“I’m not.”

“Fine,” Josh cuts him off. “Let me know when you’re ready. I hope you’re going to do something before I die from the hands of the extraterrestrial shit.”

With that, Josh leaves the room.

“Josh, come back!” Tyler nearly falls on the floor with the bedsheets tangled around his shins.

“No, I’m gonna drink some coffee and start this wonderful day with a smile,” Josh quips from the kitchen.

The tattoo on Tyler’s shoulder is blazing, swollen and reddened at the edges. He resists too much.

Tyler shakes his head, thoughts rattling, and strides into the kitchen to take an icepack to soothe the stinging under his skin.

 

*** 

Tyler doesn’t start his day with the smile on his face.

Tyler’s day starts with a short but loud fight with Josh, with rubber-like sandwiches and a nasty scrabbling from the inside of his brainpan. It’s a surreal picture, the claws are about to puncture the bone and turn Tyler’s head to an ugly-shaped sculpture.

He ignores that.

Those pills definitely had side-effects.

Josh promises to pick Tyler up by the end of his shift. ‘Please don’t go anywhere,’ Josh says. Tyler nods blankly; he knows he doesn’t have to show what’s going on inside of him. He has no doubt he’s on suicide watch.

Tyler is bored, the time doesn’t fly fast enough as he and Dallon are trying to figure out what’s wrong with their client’s Opel heating system.

That’s how it goes.

Dallon’s wife keeps calling him every hour. It’s annoying.

Tyler just rolls his eyes and sighs when Dallon leaves the garage for the fifth time, gently murmuring ‘yes, honey’ over his phone.

 _Family life_ , Tyler notes. He just sits in the car and waits for his co-worker, because he doesn’t want to be the one who’s doing the entire repair; it takes good ten minutes before the quiet footsteps make Tyler lift his head from the steering wheel.

“What does she want now?” Tyler asks with a hint of sarcasm in his tone and looks out of the open car door.

The silhouette surrounded by inky-dark shadows is definitely not Dallon.

“Shit,” Tyler utters.

“Watch your mouth,” is he gets in reply.

Tyler is searching for any weapons he can find under the dashboard; the only thing he can catch is a cross-head screwdriver. Tyler clutches a plastic handle in his right palm and gets out of the car to meet his uninvited visitor. He looks the same — he’s just a summation of the red and black colors.

“I thought you were going to hide like a coward you are,” Tyler straightens up, reluctantly, as if he just tugs the string and Tyler can’t just rebuff him.

“You smell like him,” Blurry declares, sniffing the air like a hound dog. “You smell like human.”

“And you stink like a midden,” Tyler fends off. “Are we going to just keep discussing my perfume or let’s finally kill you?”

Blurry eyes him pityingly.

“With this useless piece of metal? Seriously?” 

Tyler has to watch him closely as his clone swims through the darkness; the shield of shadows vibrates behind Blurry’s back, but Tyler understands it’s just an optical illusion and Blurry doesn’t actually affect to any of it.

Tyler doesn’t dare to blink as the stare of red eyes takes away his ability to move.

“Not so brave when I’m right in front of you?” Blurry sneers.

Tyler’s fingers go numb around the screwdriver in his palm.

“Gonna use this?” Blurry places his black-painted hand on Tyler’s, almost making him drop his possible weapon. “Gonna kill me? Oh, dear, you’re not good at choosing your victims, but don’t worry, I’ll give you a lecture. It’ll be much easier once you’re done with Josh.”

Tyler’s mind races but his body is just a lifeless mannequin. 

“Do you know where you’re going to be today?” Blurry gives him another charade, a question, and the answer is something Tyler can’t bring himself up to.

“S-stop trying to intimidate me,” Tyler sputters, wriggling his hand to shake Blurry’s control off.

“Or what?” Blurry suddenly raises Tyler’s hand up so the sharpened end of the screwdriver is pointing at his neck right below his Adam’s apple.

He manhandles Tyler backwards, Tyler’s back hits the side of a car as he tries to fixate himself upright, which is such an ordeal when Blurry’s hand forces the screwdriver to dig in Tyler’s skin. It hurts to swallow and the tiniest flinch might send Tyler straight into the embrace of his doom.

“You need me,” Tyler coughs up at Blurry’s face.

“Not so much,” Blurry’s lips curl into a grin. “I only need to guide you.”

“W-where?”

“Ready to go with me? With us?”

“Do you really think my p-position is comfortable enough?” Tyler can feel his own heartbeat running down the metal rod. Blurry is pressing on it, and Tyler jerks his neck to avoid getting prodded.

“They’re going to take you back, T-21,” Blurry informs him, practically leaning on Tyler, stepping on his untied shoelaces. “You are just a little plush toy, too innocent and faint-hearted; They regretted They sent _you_ to perform the Mission, and your useless side-effect from the teleportation didn’t help either,” Blurry chuckles hoarsely.

“What do you mean?” Tyler quivers under the wave of goosebumps flooding up his skin.

“You call this a superpower. A gift. For our Creators it’s just a pesky consequence though. And _mine_ aftermath is more useful than yours- I can control your little brain, isn’t this a miracle? And I also discovered I could do the same with _our_ Josh- it’s so sad that I wasn’t good enough, but now I’m working on it. So I think I don’t need your help anymore.”

The tip of the improvised weapon draws blood from the broken skin. This is Blurry’s way to make Tyler talk.

“Don’t even think about g-getting into Josh’s head,” he begins, roughly interrupted by the hand on his neck.

“Here’s a thing called suicide,” Blurry murmurs. “One little boy can’t deal with all the weight on his shoulders, with his mentally ill boyfriend who’s obsessed with UFOs and is getting chased by a secret corporation. It’s a great scenario, Tyler.”

Tyler gathers all of his strength for a battle cry.

“I’m done with this shit!”

Blurry laughs at Tyler’s reaction. He doesn’t move from where he stands, just lowering the screwdriver down and aiming it between Tyler’s collarbones.

“You know you can’t evade the deactivation; VESSEL doesn’t believe you anymore,” Blurry simply says.

“Because you’re b-betraying me!”

The weight applied over Tyler’s limbs grows, threatening to break the bones.

“You’re betraying yourself, _Tyler_ ,” Blurry slaps his cheek when he stands on his tiptoes to look at the door. What would Dallon do if he’d seen two identical guys at his workplace?

Blurry tilts his head, hypnotizing Tyler with his gaze, the protective gear in his brain begins to lose its cogwheels.

“I’m not going to be your lap-dog,” Tyler hisses fervently.

But Tyler’s palm and the screwdriver are still in Blurry’s grasp, so he doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of Tyler. There’s a harsh sound of the fabric being ripped apart, an acute pain in Tyler’s upper thigh and a cramping sensation in his muscles as the length of the cross-head screwdriver sinks in his flesh.

“As you want,” Blurry shrugs, tossing Tyler on the ground and kicking him in the gut. His throat is tight from sporadic breaths, the blood begins to flow down his pant leg as he accidentally touches the screwdriver sticking out of the wound.

Tyler grits his teeth and roars, crawling away from his opponent as he towers over him. Blurry bends forward and reaches for Tyler’s mutilated leg, and all what Tyler wants is punch him, but his body’s paralyzed; the only thing he can do is try to incinerate Blurry with his glance.

It doesn’t work though.

Tyler begins to hyperventilate when Blurry twitches the screwdriver and tears it out of his right thigh with a wet pop; he throws it and it lands next to Tyler’s head, nearly hitting his temple.

There’s so much blood.

“I must’ve hit the artery, I’m not good at anatomy,” Blurry states with a half-shrug. “Who cares though? You better bandage the wound.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler tries to sit up and check the damage. His hands are covered in dust and motor oil, and this isn’t doing anything good for a gaping hole in his leg which keeps spewing blood.

Blurry turns away and heads towards the exit, but then he suddenly stops and snaps his fingers.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he takes off his red beanie and shakes it; there’s a crumpled piece of paper falling out of it, swirling in the air and landing on the dirty floor. Blurry obligingly kicks it with the toe of his sneaker so the paper slides in Tyler’s direction. “Make the right decision,” Blurry smirks and whips around.

Tyler wants to pick the screwdriver and hurl it back at Blurry, but the blood-loss squeezes his throat, the air is not available, and Tyler begins to feel dangerously lightheaded, swinging on the invisible swings.

When he opens his eyes, Blurry isn’t here anymore.

Tyler’s back is freezing from a cool metal of the car he’s slouched against, hands trembling, and the wound in his thigh is pulsating, hot with a gushing blood. The fatigue falls all over him, but a gut-wrenching pain doesn’t let him zone out again.

Tyler can’t stop doing stupid things when he hears the voices; he wants to stand up but every move just increases the bleeding, and Tyler slams to his knees, hands slipping on the hood of the silvery car and leaving bright-red fingerprints on it.

“…and then she was like ‘why don’t you spend your free time with me?’ and I said ‘because I don’t have any free time…” Dallon giggles from the opposite corner of the garage.

“Women, they’re always like this,” Michael agrees.

“So that’s why we’re going to the restaurant tonight… Where’s Tyler? He was there when I went out.”

Tyler realizes they can’t see him as the car covers him. He’s ready to scream to draw their attention.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom?” Michael assumes. “I wish I knew what’s on this dude’s mind.”

Tyler’s vision is speckled with red and black flashing spots.

“Help,” Tyler asks weakly. “I have p-problems.”

The best way to name a cross-head screwdriver lying in a puddle of drying blood three inches away from him.

They run towards him, Tyler can tell it by their heavy breathing. Tyler’s senses sharpen, he can smell the blood, taste it, he’s drowning in it. Michael’s strong hands under Tyler’s armpits don’t let him fall backwards while Dallon inspects the injury; Tyler half cackles half cries when he looks down at a round hole in his jeans, black threads stick to a puncture wound.

“Crap, Tyler,” Dallon chokes out.

“Go get the first aid kit, now!” Michael shouts. “Hey, just don’t pass out. I’m gonna call the ambulance, hold on, Joseph, hold on,” he encourages.

But Michael doesn’t know that the crimson liquid splattered all over the concrete floor is not actually human’s blood. The sirens are shrilling in Tyler’s head, the world lurches along with his innards.

“N-no, please, no hospitals,” Tyler exhales through a painful spasm. “I need to call Josh.”

He’s sure Michael is going to punch him for that.

“Are you crazy? You need stitches, fuck, there’s your blood everywhere! And what if you get infection and die?” Michael fidgets on the floor when Dallon bursts into the garage clutching a bag with the first aid kit.

“How did you manage to get this?”

“Having a bad day,” Tyler huffs, glancing at his leg once again and getting satisfied by the sight of a clotted blood. The cut is not leaking like a broken faucet now. “I don’t need an ambulance.”

Then he gets ashamed by a red sticky pool under his hip that yells _you’ve lost all that blood_. It’s sickening.

“Doesn’t look that bad,” Dallon reads the verdict. “I think this doesn’t even require stitches.”

“See?” Tyler looks up at Michael.

“Then call Josh right the fuck now,” he grimaces with his teeth clenched.

“Fine,” Tyler immediately pulls the phone out of his pocket and scrolls through the contacts, searching for the right icon.

One ring, two, three, four…

“Hey, Ty,” Josh’s tired voice fills Tyler’s ear.

“Hey, um,” Tyler winces as Dallon runs the disinfectant-soaked cottonwool over the wound. It doesn’t even seem that deep anymore. “Are you busy now?”

“Driving across the bridge,” Josh responds through the cracking of the static noises. “What happened?”

“I accidentally got hurt _again_ ,” Tyler blurts out, earning a slight gasp from Josh. “Stabbed my leg with the… whatever. I’m almost fine now, but my boss wants me to leave, but I’m kinda dizzy and also covered in b-blood so I don’t think I can ride a bus, I’m really s-sorry, Josh,” he’s just babbling.

“Sh, calm down,” Josh shushes him. “I’m on my way. Do you have anyone with you right now?”

“Yeah, Michael and Dallon are here…” Tyler pauses. “It doesn’t even hurt. J-just a little.”

“It’s good,” Tyler hears a smile in Josh’s voice. A little, uncertain smile before he hangs up.

“Tyler,” Dallon says apologetically.

Tyler shoots him a glare.

“What? Am I dying?” 

Dallon ignores Tyler’s bad mood.

“We have to bandage your leg, at least,” he explains.

“And so what?” Tyler asks, riled up. Dallon is standing on the piece of paper Blurry gave him, and Tyler feels the need to grab it right now.

“I think he means that you have to take your pants off,” Michael prompts.

“What? Why?”

His injury doesn’t seem so important when Josh is already on his way and Tyler is about to find a key to a metaphorically locked door.

“To clean up the cut,” Dallon says patiently.

“Oh.”

They won’t let him go without making sure he’s not getting septicemia. Tyler nods and unbuckles his jeans.

 

***

By the time Josh arrives to the auto repair service, the wound on Tyler’s leg is already cleaned up and neatly bandaged with the sterile gauze. His skin regeneration is working in full force — Tyler has just a shallow cut now, that doesn’t make anyone shudder, so Tyler can almost shrug off the entire incident. The scrapes sometimes look much worse than they actually are. 

Even though Tyler knows how dangerous that cut truly was, and the bloodstains on the floor is the best evidence. When the injury was healing, Tyler felt like his leg tissues went through a meat grinder, but luckily, everything was over fairly quickly.

They’re driving in silence, Tyler’s fingers are fumbling with a battered paper in his pocket.

“I had to take time off from work,” Josh states. “And now you’re _not going_ to tell me what happened to your leg?”

Tyler doesn’t feel like lying to him.

“Blurryface stabbed me with the s-screwdriver,” he says.

Josh nearly crashes the brake pedal.

“Blurryface did _what_?” 

“He came to me, and then kinda…” Tyler gestures at his leg.

“Jesus. You must’ve bled everywhere. And how… deep?”

“A half of my forefinger maybe?” Tyler lies. It was much deeper, but Josh doesn’t have to know. The skin under Tyler’s pants feels flakey and dry.

“Oh.”

“I’m lucky that I have these self-healing abilities,” Tyler utters, wiping his palm on his thigh. “Though, I’m sure he did that because he knew that wouldn’t hurt me bad.”

But it hurt him _bad_.

“Stop saying this shit, he attacked you, and I wasn’t anywhere near you!” Josh barks, hitting the steering wheel in agony.

“It’s not the first time, not the last,” Tyler sighs. He craves to pull the paper out of his pocket and check it out.

But he decides to wait until they get home.

 

***

At home, Tyler’s confidence fades along with the desire to inspect the message in his pocket. He changes his blood-streaked pants and cleans the skin on his thigh with the washcloth, finally letting Josh take a look at it — here’s just a small round scratch right above his _josh_ tattoo, covered with a brown scab.

“Throw your jeans into a washer,” Josh offers, wrinkling his nose at the sight of Tyler’s dirty clothes piled on the floor.

Tyler does as he told, head floating in the haze of his thoughts and insecurities. Josh hates seeing any amount of blood, and Tyler is forcing him to deal with it nearly every day.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Josh says, tugging his t-shirt over his head.

“Cool, I’ll wait in the kitchen,” Tyler responds, rumpling the message in his palm and storming out of the bathroom.

He can’t wait any longer.

He doesn’t know what he expects to see.

Tyler takes a deep breath and unfolds the paper. His legs feel wobbly as he heads towards the couch and practically falls down onto it.

Here’s the list written in messy scribbles.

_~~Abby Vaughn~~ _

_~~Jerry Lewinsky~~ _

_~~Cody Taylor~~ _

_Josh Dun_ _✓_

_Lana Bakker_

_Andrew Collins_

_Chris Salih_

_T-21 (deactivation/???)_

Tyler bites at his fist not to let out a loud cry. He cries a little when he sees the word written below the list of all the Contactees he’s ever met.

 ** _W A R E H Ø U S E_**   _9:45PM_

Tyler automatically glances at the clock ticking on the wall — 7:26PM. Not enough time to explain everything to Josh. Tyler thinks he knows the place Blurry has mentioned in the message — it’s an abandoned warehouse beside the bankrupted shopping center. The warehouse has probably become a shelter for all the local druggies — Tyler only hopes that Blurry isn’t going to continue killing everyone on his path.

The panic whirls in Tyler’s chest, heart pumping molten lead through his veins, but he struggles to keep his mind clean. He accepts the rules, taking a pen from the table and crossing the name out of the list.

 _ ~~Josh Dun~~_ _✓_

“I’m sorry,” Tyler whispers.

He has to do this.

Otherwise he’s bound to lose this game.

Josh is still in the bathroom when Tyler sneaks into the hallway and steals the car keys form the pocket of Josh’s uniform jacket, feeling like the dumbest traitor on Earth.

He runs to a parking lot as the stars keep throwing accusing glances at him — the Space hates him. Josh is going to hate him too. Tyler rummages for Josh’s Swiss knife in a glove box and breathes out in relief as he finds it — just in case. He might not even have the time to use it.

“They’re going to take me back, because I failed,” Tyler says firmly to himself. “I’m coming back.”

His sternum hurts, head throbs and heart speeds up as he gets closer to the warehouse; there are almost no cars here so Tyler drifts between them, cursing the lonely drivers and his own driving skills.

It’s still too early when he approaches the meeting point and hesitates to get out of the car. What if the shining sphere is waiting for him as well? He climbs out of the vehicle slowly, carefully as if the shadows and darkness might eat him alive; there are no any lights, and Tyler snatches the flashlight from the backseat, slides the Swiss knife into his pocket and goes towards the empty warehouse. There’s a familiar sensation of being manipulated by somebody invisible.

The Deal hasn’t even started yet, but Tyler already hates himself for this idea. He taps his fingers on his thighs nervously, insides churning in anticipation as the sky turns to a black hole, devouring all the stars above Tyler’s head.

He suddenly realizes how far from his real home he is.

The crunching of gravel behind him makes him jump aside and shoot the ray from flashlight to the source of the sound.

“You came alone, you’re so presumptuous,” Blurry snickers, stepping over a poorly lit spot under his feet.

“You promised n-not to put Josh into it,” Tyler says. He can barely hold the flashlight, the one Jenna gave him before leaving the VESSEL building. Tyler hates taking souvenirs.

“You’ve crossed him off,” Blurry scoffs. “I’m taking it as your agreement.”

“I’ve been thinking of it,” Tyler admits, staggering backwards. Though he knows quitting won’t bring any luck.

“That’s good,” Blurry nods, visibly relaxing. Tyler just tenses up even more. “That’s just who you really are.”

There’s an illustration in Tyler’s brain, a vision of the night when he and Josh saw the glowing, the man yelling at the Object in the sky, a gun, a shot, blood, blood, blood, a motionless body and an idiotic idea to heal Josh right then and there, pain, and then sudden, long-awaited relief.

“You didn’t want to save him, did you?” Blurry mocks, waltzing circles around Tyler. Tyler catches him in the light again, a patches of reflected light in Blurry’s red eyes. He’s like a vampire, he feeds on Tyler’s emotions and his energy, leaving Tyler drained like an old lemon peel.

_Footsteps._

“I’m… We’re… B-but Josh is…” Tyler feels like he might swoon when he notices a fast movement in the background. He is endeavoring to regain his composure while he still has a few seconds.

The next moment Blurry materializes right in front of him, so incredibly close Tyler can feel the warmth of his breath on his face. He smells like dust and humid concrete, a certain scent, almost like a cemetery smells just after the rain.

The smell of death.

“What’s wrong?” Blurry ducks his head, eyebrows raised. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he adds. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Another movement.

Tyler wants to close his eyes and pray as Blurry catches his wrist and twists it until it lets out a light crack. The Swiss knife hits the gravel with a sad _ding_. Blurry clicks his tongue, disappointed.

“I thought you’ve learned the lesson.” 

Tyler aims the flashlight for his face to make the shadows scatter so he can see Blurry’s facial expression clearly.

“I’ve learned,” Tyler obeys. “I can’t hide from myself.”

“That’s really good, boy,” Blurry greets him with _his own_ smile.

The noise makes him turn around, but Tyler grabs him by his shoulders and doesn’t let him look back.

“What are you-” the astonishment splashes across the red irises as Tyler pulls Blurry into a hug.

_Now or never, Tyler, now or never._

“I want t-to try somethin’, ah,” Tyler stutters out before colliding their lips together in a desperate kiss.

He needs some time to adjust to the surge of vigor, but Blurry’s dominance takes over; he jostles Tyler, shoves him aside and makes him sit down onto the hood of Josh’s car still parked there. Blurry bites Tyler’s lips to shreds, hungrily, at the same time trying to tug his basketball shorts down and gripping at the collar of Tyler’s hoodie, pulling the strings until they wrap around Tyler’s neck. Tyler groans and throws his head back.

Blurry huffs out a raucous laughter.

“Like getting choked?” 

“Helps to… distract,” Tyler agrees, urging himself to look in Blurry’s red eyes. They’re like two glass balls full of toxic blood.

“I’ll do whatever you want, but at first you’ll have to show me what else you can do with this pretty mouth of yours,” Blurry blurts out with a smirk, snatching Tyler by the front of his hoodie and throwing him off the car.

Tyler’s on his knees, unable to lift his head up as his heart falls into his stomach, boiling in acid.

“Never thought of this before, but it’s so tempting,” Blurry murmurs, curling his fingers in Tyler’s hair and forcing him to whimper. “Aw, what’s wrong? Baby’s not ready?”   

Tyler screws his eyes shut. If he plays the wrong card he has to finish a thing he’s started.

“I’ll return a favor later,” Blurry coos, slowly moving Tyler’s head towards his crotch. “Now open your mouth. You’re aroused, aren’t you?”

_No._

Tyler can’t even think of getting hard when the avalanche of anxiety shatters his mind. He can only taste the acrid vomit coating the back of his tongue. The gravel scrapes the skin on his knees, bloody dots seep through the fabric of his sweatpants, and Tyler can’t reach for the knife, and Blurry drags him by the hair, and —

“What’s up?”

A muffled thud of a body hitting the ground resonates through the night. Tyler is still too scared to open his eyes when he feels a familiar calloused hand tousling his hair.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I thought…” Tyler swallows through a gag reflex. “I thought you didn’t find the n-note, and…” he falls back into Josh’s arms and curls into himself.

“How could I leave you alone, huh?” Josh pats his back encouragingly. “And now imagine a panicked dude getting into a bus with a backpack and a baseball bat,” Josh bursts with a fit of nervous giggling. “Well, let’s tie him up while he’s unconscious.”

Tyler pockets the knife and crawls to Blurry’s motionless body sprawled next to the car; his lips are still bright pink from making out. Tyler winces queasily as Josh pulls his jaw open and ties a cloth around his mouth.

“Can’t believe I did it,” Tyler tries to wipe the taste off his own lips and spits on the ground.

“Can’t believe he has your teeth,” Josh says thoughtfully. “And your marks. And your fucking eyelashes-”

“Stop comparing him to me, okay?” Tyler explodes with anger and kicks Blurry’s side. “He wanted me to suck him off,” he spits again, doubling over. “God, I was about to hurl all over h-him.”

Josh digs in his backpack, taking a rope and wrapping it around Blurry’s skinny wrists.

“Ty, help me hold him?”

“Sure,” Tyler touches Blurry’s arms cautiously as if they’re poisonous snakes.

Josh works diligently on tying Blurry’s hands and ankles before turning up to Tyler.

“Remember when I said that you killing me was the worst nightmare?”

Tyler nods.

“Now forget. Seeing you with his tongue down your throat,” Josh pauses, taking the bat from the ground. “This is much worse,” he grabs Blurry by his upper arms and hauls him to the car. “Open the car trunk,” he orders.

They put him inside, together, Tyler holds Blurry’s legs as Josh lays him down.

“Can’t believe we got this Satan’s helper,” Tyler utters, scratching the back of his head.

“Now we gotta go home,” Josh nods. “Call Jenna, Merrick, everyone; now they’re gonna fuck off,” he exclaims, getting into the driver’s seat. Tyler slides into the passenger seat. “Can’t believe you stole my car.”

“I don’t like this ‘can’t believe…’ game, stop! Josh, let’s be honest,” Tyler raises his hands up in defeat. “I didn’t want you to be there, but I really needed your help — that’s why I left Blurry’s message on the couch.”

“I got it, I’m not that stupid,” Josh snarls, focusing on the road.

The engine purrs softly, sound welcoming; Tyler realizes that he’s forgotten to make sure he hasn’t left any dents or scratches on Josh’s car.

“He almost noticed you,” Tyler explains. “This wasn’t cheating, it was just the first thought that came to my h-head!” he’s just offering excuses now, without even noticing this.

“Do you really think I’m blaming you?” Josh smiles darkly. “I was just afraid to be late. That’s all,” he sighs. “I promised to protect you.”

“I feel like a whore.”

“You’re not a whore,” Josh argues. “If I was you, I’d do the same.”

“Of course,” Tyler turns to the window. “But you’re not me.”

Josh is much nicer than him.

“I was a little jealous, to be honest,” Josh admits. “But now everything is over.”

Tyler is envious of Josh’s optimism.

 

***

The journey back home with an unconscious alien in the car trunk is odd. He doesn’t knock on the metal surface, doesn’t show any signs of life, but Tyler can just feel his presence with every cell of his body, and this encloses him in a cobweb of dread.

“He said They wanted to take me back,” Tyler mutters, narrowing his eyes at the misty lights on either side of the street.

“It’s good They didn’t,” Josh replies. He grips at the steering wheel way too hard.

“Maybe Blurry just didn’t have the time to make a call or something.”

“But you have to make a call.”

“Still no signal.”

Tyler is lying. There is a perfect signal — he glances at a slightly cracked screen of his phone and shakes his head.

Josh doesn’t criticize him.

It’s pretty late when they drive up to the apartment building, too careful not to meet any of their neighbors — talking about ‘are you planning on having a threesome with Tyler’s twin?’ is something Tyler would prefer to never discuss.

They manage to carry Blurry inside without getting caught (it’s kinda hard since the next-door granny is spying on them through the keyhole 24/7, but today is probably her day off). Blurry moans groggily, the cloth wrapped around his mouth suffocates the sound; Josh just throws him over his shoulder like a sack while Tyler is fighting with the lock, hands clumsy and head dizzy. It’s definitely Blurry’s influence.

“So what’s now?” Josh asks, turning to Tyler stoutly and smacking Blurry’s head on the doorframe. “Oops.”

“Tie him to the chair,” Tyler shrugs, putting his phone to his ear. “Don’t let him move, don’t talk to him,” he says; too loud beeping makes his eardrum pulsate.

“Hello? Tyler?” Jenna’s sleepy voice cuts off the suspense.

“We got him,” Tyler informs her, watching Josh fuss around with the rope.

“You? What?” Jenna sounds wide-awake now, Tyler can hear her getting up from the bed. “Where are you?”

“I’m home,” Tyler replies matter-of-factly. “See, we’ve performed our own operation. We found him in the empty warehouse, or well, he found us. Josh knocked him out with the baseball bat. Please, hurry,” he adds. “I think he’s waking up.”

Blurry blinks dazedly, head lolling limply, the side of his red beanie is wet. Josh scrambles away in fright before tying the knot on the rope squeezing Blurry’s torso.

“I’m on my way,” Jenna reports. The short beeps interrupt the conversation.

Josh finishes with the ties and knots; Tyler heads towards him to check his work.

Blurry is still rather disconcerted and confused as Tyler rips the beanie off his head, revealing a blood-covered swell on the back of his head. He doesn’t see the wound though, yanking Blurry’s head up by the mop of his brown hair.

“So?” Tyler asks, unwrapping a slobbery cloth. “Who’s laughing now?”

“Me?” Blurry cackles. He’s just mocking Tyler again, with this stupid lopsided smile, with these covert insults.

“Ty, wait…” Josh warns, but Tyler’s knuckles whack across Blurry’s cheekbone. It brings great pain for both of them, a bruise begins to form. Tyler shakes his hand, cracked skin flares up.

“I can still make you stop,” Blurry slurs, eyes half-open.

Tyler clenches his fist for another assault.

“Then do it.” 

“They made a huge mistake,” Blurry says indifferently. “When They made you so… so human-ish…”

“What do you mean?” Josh catches Tyler’s hand when he’s about to clip Blurry’s jaw.

“They thought it would help you get lost among them, among earthlings,” Blurry explains unhurriedly. “But something went just wrong, you were… defected, Their first experience of sending a spy from our galaxy.”

“Well…” Tyler crouches down in front of him, interested. “Did you see Them? Do you remember-”

“Not everything, just Their features,” Blurry responds tiredly. “Skin grey, eyes black. Long thin fingers, very flexible, I saw a glimpse of Their faces when I woke up after the operation.”

“The operation?” Josh chews his lip nervously.

Blurry crunches his neck as he turns his head.

“Indeed,” Tyler snaps his fingers, jumping up on his feet and heading to examine the back of Blurry’s neck.

How could he not notice this earlier? Here’s the lump under his blackened skin, a small solid object; Tyler catches it between his thumb and forefinger, petrified. Tyler doesn’t remember Their faces, but their abnormally long fingers had made an imprint in his memory.

“Ow, it hurts,” Blurry gasps when Tyler twitches the implant between his fingertips.

“Hurts? _Are you serious_? Tyler gloats. He comes around to face Blurry again. “Do you think it didn’t hurt when you s-stabbed me with a fucking screwdriver?”

He’s screeching now, clutching Blurry’s shoulders and shaking him without restraint. 

“Do you think it d-didn’t hurt when you made me see things? Or when you made me suffer from those migraines and nosebleeds? Do you think it didn’t hurt?” Tyler is glaring at him, backhanding him before his inner self prompts him to stop.

Blurry sucks on his busted lip, the tip of his tongue runs over the corner of his mouth.

It’s not enough.

Tyler wants to tear him apart, to disembowel him, to make him pay for everything he’s done to him, to the people he’s killed —

“Ty, don’t do this,” Josh tugs him backwards, but the rage shrouds Tyler’s eyes as he snatches the Swiss knife out of his sleeve and jabs Blurry’s leg right above his knee.

He sees the rill of blood soaking through Blurry’s black shorts and leggings, hears his hushed cry; the next moment Tyler realizes he’s being manhandled away, the knife is taken and thrown under the table.

“You’re not like this, Tyler, stop!” Josh captures him in a bear hug as Tyler leaps forward to hit Blurry once again.

Blurry greets him with this oh-so-friendly wink.

And then Tyler’s mind goes blank. Blurry laughs as he’s promised to, like a maniac he is, ignoring the incision in his thigh.

Tyler is a nervous wreck; he’s trembling and probably weeping as his head turns to the battlefield again. It’s something similar to going through withdrawal — with sweating and convulsing and with a crestfallen Josh behind his back. Tyler is blinded by the excruciating headache, it explodes with the bouquet of white streamlets, and Tyler thrashes sideways, still being held by Josh. He’s just a smashed bug, with his fragile guts smudged down the bottom of the shoe of his ruthless murderer.

“Ty, I got you, sh, please, keep breathing…”

Josh’s voice indicates that Tyler hasn’t lost himself completely.

Tyler’s tantrum subsides when somebody knocks at the door.

“It’s them,” Tyler whispers, lips dry.

“I’m coming,” Josh responds.

“No, stay with him,” Tyler gives Blurry a quick nod. “I’ll open.”

Judging by the noises, VESSEL agents are about to break into their apartment.

Tyler unwraps himself from Josh’s arms and sprints down the hallway, the knocking becomes harder with every second.

“Open up!” there’s the sound of the wood creaking. “Now!”

Tyler only manages to turn the key in the lock as the heavy door swings open straight in his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't finished the last chapter yet but whatever


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The first thing you thought about when you realized you were on Earth?”
> 
> “Kill Tyler Joseph.”
> 
> “And?” Jenna brings the microphone closer to her lips.
> 
> “That’s what I’m doing right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blurry never curses.
> 
> never google the line 'fully functional and anatomically correct' and never listen to the song in the results

Tyler instinctively throws his arm up in front of his face to save his poor nose from getting broken; a sharp pain strikes down the bone as the door swipes across his right forearm. A forceful blow in his solar plexus, he collapses on the parquet as the agent’s heavy combat boot leaves a dent in his chest.

“Enough!”

Tyler knows that the punch is about to come anyway so he tries to block it out with his hands but he can’t move. Somebody stomps on his ribcage, growling and pinning him down.

“Enough!” another shout. “He’s not fighting back!”

Tyler turns his head and follows Mark with his gaze; he’s sprinting to the living room with the barrel of his rifle aimed for the yet invisible target. Jenna is holding a pistol, pointing it at Merrick who currently pins Tyler to the floor. Tyler aches to the core even when he just blinks repeatedly.

“He’s one of them.”

“He just wants to help!..”

Jenna looks like a soldier, it’s the first time Tyler spots her wearing the VESSEL uniform with the badge _‘Black’_. Tyler needs to clip his attention to something, needs to get his consciousness back. Jenna gives him _that_ look, _‘Tyler you’re a trouble’_ , looking tired and lacking of sleep, with no make-up on and with her hair in a messy high bun.

Merrick is fuming, but his foot stops flattening Tyler’s torso.

“This… this won’t bring them b-back to life,” Tyler hacks up, startling both Jenna and Merrick.

“Merrick, Black, come here, the Object is here!” Mark hollers from the room. The room seems to be miles away from Tyler, he hears Josh’s voice shooting from a thick lava above Tyler’s head.

“Let me go! What are you doing to him? Tyler?”

Josh is being overprotective as the loving boyfriend he is.

“Why are you smiling?” a harsh kick in the ribs makes Tyler’s brief delight fade.

“I didn’t kill them,” Tyler wheezes.

“What the hell do you-”

Merrick’s steel-toe boot pokes Tyler’s side.

“Stop it! Now!” Jenna bellows. “Go and help Mark, and don’t you even dare touch Josh or I swear I kill you,” she spits, crouching down beside Tyler.

“He’s out of his mind,” Merrick grunts.

“It’s a traumatic shock. Now, go, leave us alone.”

And Merrick grudgingly follows her order.

And Tyler is about to let the black depth consume him.

“Tyler, I’m sorry,” Jenna lays her pistol on the floor. “Do you hear me?”

“Happened t-too fast,” Tyler sucks a breath. “He broke my arm.”

A loud noise from the room distracts him. Something falls. He hopes it’s not Josh.

“He broke my arm, I know it,” Tyler cradles his injured limb to his chest. “I h-heard it crack.”

Jenna bites her bottom lip, outstretching Tyler’s hand; he tries his best to choke back a traitorous whine when she inspects a giant bruise spreading there.

“Not broken.”

“Hurts,” Tyler utters, more coherent this time. “You have to check the other guy.”

“I’m afraid,” Jenna confesses timidly.

“He looks like me.”

“That’s the reason.”

Tyler takes a moment to comprehend her words. She’s just a human, there’s nothing wrong with her reaction.

There are the sounds of a furious fight coming from the living room; this makes Jenna grab her pistol, and Tyler promptly forgets about his shock and about his throbbing arm as he hops up on his feet and rushes to the rescue. He prays that nobody has already hurt Josh —

He kicks the door in a trademark VESSEL style and nearly laughs at the absurdity of the scene he sees. The agents are not beating Josh up — this time, Josh is beating them.

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“Hey, you’re not gonna use this, are you?” Tyler inquires, nodding at the rifle in Josh’s hands.

“Of course not,” Josh rolls his eyes. “I was just waiting for somebody sane. Hey, Jenna,” he greets her in the friendliest manner, handing Mark’s rifle to her. “He tried to knock me out.”

Jenna puts the safety on and unloads the rifle silently, removing the magazine and popping out the bullets.

“You punched Merrick,” Mark snaps.

“Not hard enough,” Josh replies.

The skin around Merrick’s right eye is swelling.

“Shut up, all of you,” Jenna commands, finally turning to the corner of the room where a captured Blurry sits. “What the hell is this?”

“Hello. It’s me,” Blurry says suavely. “Is the show over?”

“It hasn’t even started for you, bitch,” Tyler mutters under his breath.

“Really?” Blurry chortles. “I was about to applause and ask for the encore.”

Jenna gasps, getting closer to Blurry and scanning his face.

“It’s- it’s impossible.” 

“He has a microchip in his neck,” Josh interjects.

“And he’s a murderer,” Tyler says. He flinches when he hears a crackle of a walkie-talkie.

“VESSEL, VESSEL, it’s agent Merrick. We found them, all three of them, get the helicopter ready.”

Tyler kicks the bullets scattered all over the carpet.

“Hey, lady, don’t you want to tell me your name?” Blurry lurches forward, nearly touching Jenna’s palm with his tied hands.

Jenna doesn’t respond. She just wraps a filthy cloth back around Blurry’s venomous mouth.

“His voice sounds like yours,” she responds to Tyler’s quizzical glance. “I hate that.”

Tyler smirks nervously.

“Yeah, I hate my voice too.” 

“You know what I mean.”

“So? Where’s the helicopter?” Josh asks, eyeing Merrick and Mark cautiously.

“There’s the football field a couple of blocks away, we tried to cover up our activity,” Merrick replies and glances at his wrist watch.

Then, he darts for the bedroom and Tyler hears the wardrobe door being slammed on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?” Josh yells.

“He’s searching for the uniforms,” Tyler deadpans.

“For what?”

Merrick answers Josh’s question with his sudden appearance. Predictably enough, there are two red coveralls hanging thrown over his forearm.

“Found them.”

“You’re so mingy,” Josh remarks.

“We need to get them back as VESSEL’s property,” Merrick huffs. “We need them for the operation.”

“Breaking into our apartment is not the operation,” Tyler resents. “And breaking my bones isn’t cool as well.”

“You’re dangerous.”

“I am not!”

Mark is holding a barrel of Jenna’s pistol pressed to Blurry’s temple while Jenna handcuffs his hands behind his back and loosens the ropes on his body. Blurry’s thigh isn’t bleeding anymore, his shorts stick to a dried brown spot as he gets up and falls straight into Merrick’s grip.

“How did you manage to do that?”

“Envious that you’re not that smart?”

Merrick clenches his teeth.

“Are you provoking me? As always, Joseph.” 

“Oh, you still remember my last name, it’s so sweet,” Tyler fakes a smile as he follows Merrick down the hallway.

Blurry mewls through a makeshift gag as Merrick pushes him out of the apartment, Mark is covering his back; Jenna pats Tyler’s arm as he leaves the room while Josh is fumbling with the keys.

“Pilot, pilot, it’s VESSEL,” Merrick calls through the walkie-talkie. “Get the transport ready, get the transport ready to the point B.”

Tyler wonders where the point B is.

 

***

Josh is continually sighing behind his back, getting ready to give a speech but Tyler doesn’t listen. Their group goes down the stairs, dragging a restrained Blurry with them, weighed down by Jenna’s concerned glance — she keeps eyeing him and then Tyler, as if she compares them to each other.

A viscous air roars fiercely as they go outside — Tyler squints at the dark dot hovering in a black sky, a military helicopter might bother their neighbors, they don’t need any more problems. Tyler cherishes his hope that this chapter is going to be over really soon.

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” Jenna strokes his shoulder as he finds himself zoning out. “It’s waiting.”

Blurry’s eyes puncture the darkness, the light from the street lamp sinks in them. He doesn’t look disgraced. He doesn’t even accept his defeat, Tyler can tell it by his insolence. Mark isn’t going with them though — Jenna sends him to frisk the warehouse Tyler has mentioned. He’s afraid of all the horrible things Mark might find there — he even feels sorry in advance.

“Joseph, Dun, move, move!” Merrick grumbles as the helicopter lowers to slide against the grass.

Josh gets into the open door first.

“Don’t use codenames anymore?” 

Tyler is the second one, he’s never been in a helicopter before — there are small hard seats, agents’ backpacks and a few wooden boxes with warning signs.

Blurryface doesn’t rebel as Merrick lugs him inside, twisting his handcuffed wrists behind his back and sitting him down next to the round window. Tyler is right in front of his enemy, lungs bubble up with hate and anger — the agents don’t hurt the _real_ murderer, don’t try to knock him out with the stun gun, don’t give him concussions. Tyler’s right arm is all purple blended with the light blue streaks and he wants to cry.

“Take off, Chris,” Merrick demands through the air whipping around them.

Something twinges in Tyler’s brain at the mention of this name. He massages his temple and closes his eyes not to see the earth being dragged away from a moving helicopter.

“Doing okay?” Jenna’s hand is on his knee, patting there and pulling him out of his thoughts.

“My head hurts,” Tyler complains.

“I can give you a painkiller,” Jenna begins but Tyler rejects her offer.

“We n-need to disconnect him from my brain,” he stammers, feeling exposed under Blurry’s gaze.

“Is he doing anything right now?” Josh glares at Blurry. Blurry sneers through a makeshift gag, only fueling Tyler’s abhorrence.

“He wants to take the cloth off,” Tyler drawls. “Motion sickness.”

“That’s so melodramatic,” Merrick states, moving away from their arrestee.

“He’s inside my skull,” Tyler squeaks out, blinking through the kaleidoscope of spots and lines clouding his eyes. “He can make me bleed out of my nose and I’ll ruin the upholstery,” he adds indifferently.

“You’re such a baby,” Merrick scoffs.

“You don’t know how bad it might be,” Josh interrupts him. “Better take this off his mouth before he makes Tyler feel worse.”

And Merrick does as he told, pulling the cloth down so it hangs loosely around Blurry’s neck as he leans his head back and groans. His red beanie is covering his head again, Tyler can’t even see his eyes from the hem. Tyler hates how Blurry can control all of them. He’s like a vile puppeteer.

Tyler leans on Josh’s shoulder, thoughts dismal and adverse. Though, Blurry’s presence doesn’t help him keep the train of thought over the course of their flight — he lets out a stifled moan, licking his lips.

“Aw, somebody can’t handle the turbulence?” Tyler quips, straightening on his seat.

“I’d like to share it with you,” Blurry snarls, swallowing.

“No, really, this makes you feel sick?” he’s interested now. “I haven’t thought it was possible.”

The helicopter sways once again, slicing the air with its rotor blades, and, judging by Blurry’s green-tinted cheeks, he is not having fun with that.

Tyler gloats.

“Welcome to my world, bitch.”

He’s surprised to see Jenna nodding in agreement.

He has somebody from VESSEL to cover his back now, at least.

 

***

The flight takes nearly an hour, and all the hour Tyler spends grasping Josh’s hand anxiously and trying to avert any invasions into his brain. Blurry’s attempting to do that non-stop — the agents haven’t blocked his powers yet. He’s a dark horse, no one knows what he’s able to do with them as revenge.

Tyler’s legs feel wobbly as he gets out of the helicopter and sucks the night air into his lungs. Josh is right there, as usual, holding Tyler by the crook of his elbow. A sick bruise embraces Tyler’s forearm that hurts a little too much for it to be normal. He’s pretty sure the bone here is at least cracked.

“Tell me I don’t deserve this,” Tyler mumbles on their way towards the VESSEL gates.

“You deserve better.”

“Thanks.”

Tyler only watches Merrick and Jenna bustling around in their uniforms, their arms locked on Blurry’s shoulders as they steer him downstairs, to a huge glass door.

The sparkles are percolating through a transparent surface already, a light glint of blue and white, Tyler will never forget this scanning grid from the last time. The goosebumps pop up on Tyler’s skin as he steps onto a metal platform and takes a deep breath. Breathing exercises never work though.

“Undress,” Jenna utters tiredly.

“Why can’t I go through it with my clothes on?” Tyler tries to peek into the hallway but Merrick yanks him back.

“You know the answer,” Jenna says firmly.

“But I don’t even have any metal details or something!” Tyler protests.

He hugs his shoulders, bunching up his sleeves and revealing a soft blue shining of the patterns on his skin.

“These are the rules.”

Tyler doesn’t want to mess with their wonderful investigation, but he just thinks it’s unfair. Blurry makes him feel weak, and his bones still ache.

“Is Josh going to undress as well?”

“No, he doesn’t have to go through the system,” Jenna replies, voice calm. “He’s a _human_ , and we’ve already defined this. He’s going to have other tests.”

Josh doesn’t look happy when Jenna mentions the tests. Tyler chews his bottom lip, slipping out of his sweatshirt and t-shirt, laying them on the floor before bending to tug his joggers down.

“Please, don’t throw them away. I have nothing left to wear,” Tyler mutters dejectedly. He doesn’t know what he wants to cover in the first place: his chest with the glowing tattoos or that little _josh_ on his thigh, peeking from underneath his boxers.

“You haven’t been eating properly, have you?” Jenna almost scolds him. Tyler feels self-conscious of his protruding ribs so he tries to cover them too. 

The color of the bruises on his torso and side has already faded to yellow, barely noticeable on his tanned skin. His abilities have done something good for him. Tyler swallows and takes a step towards the scanning system.

“I have an eternity by my side,” his own voice stabs him. “Do you have something else except this badly designed illumination?”

“Shut up, Blurry,” Josh hisses.

Frightened, Tyler turns around, and Blurry is being jostled under the reflected rays, and he’s emitting light as well. The bands on his left arm aren’t black anymore — they’re blue and white, similar to Tyler’s marks. And the X behind Josh’s ear matches them.

“What is this?” Merrick looks disappointed as his hand touches the mark on Blurry’s bicep.

“It’s a bound,” Josh explains. “This thing feels really warm,” he presses his finger to his X tattoo. “Is it- is it gleaming?”

“Yes. Probably, because you got it right after the direct Contact with the shaceship,” Jenna assumes. “We need to cut his shirt off,” she decides, looking at Blurry. “And Josh, you can use the stairs right behind the-”

“Bullshit,” Josh spits, ripping off his t-shirt. “I’m going through the hallway with Ty.”

“But it’s not necessary-” Jenna opens her mouth but Josh gestures at her to stop.

“I’m not leaving him.”

Josh’s jeans softly hit the floor as he turns to the entrance of the hallway; Merrick’s gaze glades over the tattoo above his left knee.

“What the hell is this?”

“None of your business,” Josh backchats.

Tyler is proud of him.

The sirens aren’t yelling like crazy when Tyler goes through the grid, swimming in the intersected lights, blue-white-red-red-red, they change sporadically as he keeps moving his feet. The agents have probably muted the sound or the system identifies Tyler now. He makes it, with Josh behind his back and with anxiety in his chest, because the story repeats itself — but this time, Tyler is not just an Object, he’s a witness. He’s scared, he’s so scared he nearly punches Josh’s arm as he places his palm on Tyler’s bare shoulder.

Something in Tyler’s ribcage hurts.

Josh doesn’t have time to say the words of consolation — there’s the sound, that sound of the alarm, shrieking and rasping, and Tyler covers his ears with his palms before he can even register it. His back is pressed against the metal railings, his eyes are closed as the feeling of being trapped in a time loop entombs him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Josh’s lips are moving but Tyler doesn’t hear anything as he blinks at the red lights.

They emerge out of this Hell — Blurry, stripped down to his underwear with his hands cuffed behind his back, followed by Merrick as if he’s Blurry’s personal guard dog. Jenna is right behind him, throwing at Josh his clothes as soon as she steps onto a metal platform.

“Identification procedure complete. Take him to the isolation room,” Jenna orders.

Blurry gives her a puzzled glance.

“Use the serum,” Josh offers malevolently.

“No, we can’t. Not now,” Jenna replies. “But we’ll try as soon as we figure out his biological features.”

Merrick shoves Blurry downstairs, nearly sending him stumbling on the staircase.

Merrick doesn’t say anything. He just keeps guiding his detainee.

“Can I get my pants back?” Tyler asks, looking at Josh enviously as he throws his t-shirt back on.

“Merrick will give you a coverall,” Jenna responds.

“And until then?” Tyler is suddenly angry with her, and he can’t stop. “Do you want me t-to go down all the hallways like this? In front of all the agents we’re about to meet? Seriously?! Can you please stop degrading me in every single possible way?” he bounces away when Jenna is about to touch him. “Merrick is a monster, but no one gives a shit, great! He couldn’t even open the door without injuring _me_ , my arm is fucked up and I can’t heal it right now, but Merrick still decides what I have to wear! He can’t d-decide it for me, I’m not leaving this platform half naked,” he finishes, arms folded on his chest.

“But Tyler-”

“End of discussion.”

“Tyler-”

“Blurry has killed God-knows-how-many people and what he gets? He’s being treated like a fucking king, and I have this fast regeneration so my broken bone is not a big deal.”

“It’s not broken.”

“I can’t use it properly.”

“He’s right, Jen. We helped you finish your work, and you don’t even thank us let alone treat us like humans. We’re not just Objects anymore,” Josh utters as he dresses up.

Tyler hopes that VESSEL building explodes one day.

Jenna gives him his clothes back.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you have to apologize, so nice,” Tyler smirks gloomily.

 

***

“They’re going to deactivate him. But I’m afraid he can do something nasty to me or t-to you.”

“And you can’t just kick him out of your brain?”

Tyler hums in response.

“I can’t even get rid of the bruises. He uses my energy to get his strength back.”

They’re sitting in some kind of a waiting room, with no agents or guardians here; Mark has arrived an hour ago and brought Blurry’s backpack to the lab — there were bloodied clothes, a straight razor and a gun.

“Jenna says she’s going to p-perform some tests with both Blurry and me, but I’m so dizzy I’m gonna pass out,” Tyler closes his eyes when the examination table lurches sideways. “Shit. I’m not ready.”

Though, he decides to throw on a mask of apathy when the sound of the door being opened fills up the space. Tyler wonders why these doors are so creaky.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

This doesn’t improve Tyler’s mood when he notices two syringes and vials with caps in Jenna’s hands.

“We’re working with his DNA now,” she says.

“Cool,” Tyler replies absently.

He already yanks up the sleeve on his good arm.

“You’re taking our blood as if it’s your daily routine,” Josh notes.

“Sorry about this,” Jenna scrunches up her nose. “But this time I need something else except your blood,” she taps her nail on the edge of a small vial. “Your urine.”

“Jesus, no,” Tyler wants to disappear. The fact that he really needs a bathroom break makes him feel more mortified.

“It’s important,” Jenna doesn’t actually comfort him. “For both of you.”

Beside Tyler, Josh crosses his legs.

“If I really have to pee right now, does it mean I have to use this?”

“Yes.”

“Crap.”

Josh bites the inside of his lip before fidgeting again.

“Deal,” he grumbles, taking the vial. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Indeed,” Tyler gives up and takes the other vial. “Where’s it?”

 

***

Once they’re done with this a little embarrassing task, Jenna sends the vials and their blood samples to the main office. Then, she guides them to the storage room and urges Tyler to change his clothes when no one is watching. He is frustrated, slipping into the red coverall, the one with the _T-21_ nametag, the one that still smells like road dust and his sweat. And like his blood, probably.

“Ready?” Jenna pats his back. “I’m just gonna ask you some questions.”

Tyler looks at his nametag again.

“Does he…” Tyler coughs a little. “Does Blurryface have his own codename?”

“We call him T-21b,” Jenna simply says.

Tyler thinks it insults him.

“I hate it.”

“We don’t think he _is_ you, okay?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Tyler is allowed to leave his shoes on, his favorite Vans with _laces,_ how nice of VESSEL.

“We have to explore the connection between you and your _twin_. You have similar genes, no, both of you have _identical_ sets of genes, there are no tiniest differences; I would have said it was impossible if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

Tyler zips his coverall up.

“He’s my clone, Jen, everyone knows it.”

Jenna gives him a sympathetic look.

“Let’s go,” she perks up. “We have lots of things to do now.”

“I don’t want Tyler to hang out in one room with Blurry and Merrick,” Josh says, worried. 

“Merrick isn’t going. This is my case.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Tyler’s anxiety returns in full splendor. “Gonna beat the shit outta me by yourself?”

She already pushes him towards the exit.

“Not all of the agents are jerks, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t actually want to waste his time bitching about the illegal methods of finding the truth so he just bows his head and goes where Jenna leads him — there are corridors and flights of stairs, heavy doors and lots of glass and metal constructions. They’re underground, and there are so many offices and rooms Tyler has never been in before — he’s utterly hypnotized by this endless maze, by the people in white coats, and he loathes it. He’s too noticeable. He’s like a wildfire.

“What are you gonna do with us?” he asks as they round the corner.

“Need to learn some more about your interaction, check your reaction to the same things, and, most importantly, figure out how to deactivate T-21b without turning you to a paralyzed vegetable,” Jenna itemizes, taking a bunch of keys out of her pocket. “There’s the umbilical cord between your minds, I’m pretty sure he’s going to take advantage on you if something threatens his life.”

“He’s getting stronger now,” Tyler mumbles. “My arm isn’t healing itself.”

He feels kinda guilty for mentioning it too often.

“And what about me?” Josh interrupts their conversation.

“You are allowed to watch the experiment.”

“What if you screw it up?” Josh keeps annoying her with his questions. 

Tyler just laughs at this. Blurry can just make his head explode like an overripe tomato. The vein on the side of his forehead already begins to bulge.

“He’s close, isn’t he?”

“Right behind the door.”

“I can feel him.”

Jenna licks her lips before turning to Tyler again.

“Here’s the heart of VESSEL. A specially equipped room where we perform the most significant scientific experiments,” she says somewhat proudly.

Tyler focuses on the black letters printed on the glass —

_**V** ast_

_**E** xperimental_

_**S** uper_

_**SE** cret_

_**L** aboratory_

“VESSEL,” Josh reads. “Ty, did you know it was an abbreviation?”

Tyler shakes his head abstractedly.

“Guys, I’d like to give you more time, but we have to deal with the extraterrestrial murderer first,” Jenna turns a shiny doorknob.

Tyler is just a mouse that’s about to be eaten alive by the hungry cat. So he has to be a courageous one, at least. He enters the office determined not to act like a cry baby; there’s a large glass wall, similar to the one in the interrogation room. This makes Tyler want to hide his head in the sand.

He sees Hayley with her bright-yellow hair, sitting at the table with an open laptop.

On the other side of the glass, Blurry is sitting here in just his underwear, strapped tightly to the chair and connected to different devices: here’s his heart rate, here are chaotic flashes of diagrams on the screen. Tyler supposes that VESSEL tries to take over Blurry’s brain, using an argent helmet pulled on Blurry’s head. Here are wires and cords braided over Blurry’s bare torso, and Tyler nearly begins to hyperventilate as he thinks Jenna is going to do something like this to him.  

“Josh, go and sit next to a nurse Williams, Tyler…” Jenna takes his hand. “Let’s prepare you properly.”

This scares the life out of him — Jenna makes him sit down on a vacant chair with a leather headrest.

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long,” she promises.

Tyler looks at Blurry through the glass — his clone doesn’t even rear his head, staring at the black and white security camera in front of him.

Jenna puts two round sticky patches on Tyler’s temples, the wires from them are attached to a flat box with green light-emitting diodes. There are two thick layers of glass that separate him from Blurry; Tyler begins to count the fingerprints on a transparent wall, pondering of the people who were sitting on these chairs before them. They’ve just become the files in VESSEL archive, some of them have turned to local legends, probably.

“Just relax,” Jenna says.

“It’s h-hard,” Tyler admits. He doesn’t mean to stutter while he’s talking to her but he can’t just stand the waves of terror rolling through his body.

Josh looks beyond nervous behind the glass, showing Tyler a peace sign and then throwing his thumb up. 

“You’ll be able to hear Blurry’s answers, but he will not hear yours. You answer first no matter what, okay? Try not to mess it up,” Jenna whispers into his ear.

Tyler’s neck feels numb as he nods. A sensor clamped over Tyler’s forefinger connects him to a portable heart rate monitor.

“The helmet on his head controls his neurons and therefore it reduces the empathic bond; his chip is still active, but we’ve tried to minimize the risks. Look,” she points at the red button installed into the wall next to Tyler. “You have a right to press it and stop the experiment and leave the laboratory if you’re not feeling good enough to continue. But try not to use it with no reason,” she adds. “I know you’re frazzled and taken aback, but let’s just do this, okay?”

“Okay,” Tyler whispers with zero enthusiasm.

“Fine,” Jenna turns around and goes to the door. “The Objects are ready for the examination,” she says bluntly.

Tyler almost wants to stop it _right now_.

Jenna is sitting at the table with Josh and Hayley, and Tyler feels like a patient trapped in a mental institution. He tries to concentrate on Josh’s narrowed eyes, on his smile as the first dose of Blurry’s minds sneaks into his brain. He’s not sure if the helmet can dull it, it’s something vague and barely tangible, but it stings right in his gyrus.

“Let’s start. Both of you know the rules,” Jenna’s voice echoes from the speaker. “I need both of you to tell me the worst of your memories. Tyler, you’re first.”

Tyler instantly begins to panic, the equipment registers his fear along with the unsteady jumps of his pulse.

He just remembers too many bad things.

“Answer the question, please,” Jenna taps the tip of her pen on the desk.

Tyler guesses there’s some kind of a polygraph.

“Um... Josh dying on me,” he starts. “Drowning. My visions about people being murdered,” he drawls, mood swings make him feel helpless in front of a heart monitor.

“Enough,” Jenna accidentally breaks the pen in her hand, throwing the halves on the floor. “Now you.”

Blurry raises his head up.

“Abduction.” 

The display doesn’t show anything. No changes in his heart rate or in his breathing.

Jenna furrows her eyebrows.

“Now tell me one of your best memories.”

Tyler’s face begins to blush before his tongue voices his thoughts.

“Well,” his hands are tremoring. “The day when Josh proposed?” he wipes his palms on his pant legs. “D-does it sound stupid?”

He’s so hot he’s about to exhale fire.

Jenna, apparently, tries to distance herself as much as she can, asking Blurry the same question.

“The day when They gave me instructions of how to complete my Mission,” he begins, lips stretched into a smile. “They didn’t think T-21 was that useless. Oh well, we’re making mistakes sometimes, aren’t we?”

Jenna gives Hayley a sign — the girl nods harshly and begins to type something in her laptop.

“Where are you from?” Jenna asks through the suspicious static noises.

“I don’t remember,” Tyler blurts out and pulls back along with his chair.

Tyler is sure that Blurry has heard his answer.

“Where am I from? From the test-tube, if you know what I mean. And I was given the privilege to remember some things about my _hometown_ ,” Blurry continues lazily. “You think I’m gonna keep a secret because I’m holding on for dear life? Oh, you’re so wrong.”

“Can you skip the prologue?” Tyler hisses out.

Blurry ignores him.

“MGC1,” he says.

“A globular cluster near the Andromeda Galaxy?” Jenna asks to clarify.

“One of the most isolated ones,” Tyler whispers, palms suddenly wet again as he hears the name of his real home for the first time.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Why do you even care about it?” Blurry shrugs.

The zigzags on the screen begin to dance in a stable rhythm.

“Why Ty… T-21 doesn’t remember it?”

“Isn’t it his own problem?” Blurry looks up at the ceiling. “Okay. There was something wrong with his teleportation; usually, They use the light funnel to pick up the Contactees or to transport their spies. But sometimes Their machinery doesn’t set well with the magnetic fields on Earth, and there are thousands of factors that can spoil the engines and gears. Your satellites don’t help either. They’re working on their protective shields now,” Blurry says musingly. “They’re working.”

“But magnetic fields can’t erase memories,” Jenna argues.

“I had a head injury,” Tyler winces, remembering the blood that was trickling down his neck. “When I first woke up. I c-could only remember my name and my age, nothing else.”

“I think They simply dropped him to get him through the magnetic barrier quickly,” Blurry concludes. “He’s not that strong.”

This encourages Jenna into the next question.

“The first thing you thought about when you realized you were on Earth?”

“Kill Tyler Joseph.”

“And?” Jenna brings the microphone closer to her lips.

“That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Tyler’s hand freezes inch away from the red button. He’s just waiting for something, for a familiar head rush, and diodes twinkle as the beeping grows louder.

“Tyler?”

Tyler opens his eyes at Josh’s voice. Jenna hushes him, taking the mic again.

“Is everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“He’s pretending,” Blurry scoffs. “I’m ruling his mind now.”

Blurry is just eating through Tyler’s brain tissues like a moth.

“Why did you kill those Contactees?”

“Because _Tyler_ couldn’t do that.”

“Right,” Jenna purses her lips. “Do you know that you are VESSEL’s property now, and you’re most likely going to get deactivated tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Blurry nods.

“You killed one of our agents.”

“He was stupid.”

Jenna pauses before asking him —

“What can you say about the uncontrollable outbursts of superpowers?”

“Like telekinesis?” Blurry cocks his head.

“Josh is clean,” Tyler interjects before Blurry gets a chance to solve the mystery. “I… I feel it.”

“Can you explain?”

“Yeah,” Tyler licks his lips, spotting Josh behind the glass again. “Something happened to Josh’s powers during the last Contact- the one your satellite caught a while ago. He tried to save us from the UFO and created a dome,” Tyler hesitates. “He took a hit. We were about t-to get smashed by the rays of light, but Josh didn’t let it happen, and that was it, the moment when something had changed. He got a mark.”

“He couldn’t use his powers since that?”

“He didn’t even try,” Tyler says. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do that if h-he even tried- the last outburst was all of the sudden, when Josh was semi-conscious due to that pneumonia. N-no incidents since that.”

“Is he telling the truth?” Jenna turns to Josh.

Josh looks pale.

“Yes,” he croaks out. “I tried to… to use it… Gosh, when Tyler was alone with… with T-21b I… I wanted to throw him away from Tyler but couldn’t. So I had to use a baseball bat,” Josh continues, staring at his hands. “I don’t feel anything weird inside of me anymore.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. If Josh doesn’t have his powers anymore, it means he’s not that interesting to VESSEL. 

“They can take everything back,” Blurry says quietly. “They can control it,” he twists his black neck, showing the bump here on camera. “And when everything gets out of hand, they use this.”

“How does it work?” Jenna’s voice is emotionless, glance hollow.

“I don’t know,” Blurry replies without a hint of mockery in his intonation. “They just implant a microchip and give orders directly to your brain. You can’t just resist it.”

“Are you trying to protect your race or your technologies?”

“Seriously?” Blurry grins with the corner of his mouth. “Do you really think I know everything about our Creators? I just know that they don’t look like humans, don’t look like us — they’re just working with DNA of the earthlings, with whatever they can find during their researches!”

“How could it happen They’ve created two completely different Objects?” 

Tyler thinks one single word might ruin his life. Jenna is the judge now.

“T-21’s position was evident from the very beginning — a defected Object, with more conscience than anger. He’s _emotional_. This is his biggest flaw. I told him — they regretted they created him,” Blurry spits contemptuously. “He was supposed to be tough, a soldier, but instead he befriended his victims and is now living with one of the Contactees. This is against the rules.”

“But he doesn’t remember anything, why are they still chasing him?”

“Because They don’t like it when Their precious _biological material_ just roams the Earth and pretends to be a human, isn’t it clear?”

“I’m not a biological material, I have a family now,” Tyler protests wearily.

“A family,” Blurry repeats with a giggle. “Having sex with J-20 is just a formality. Are you sure you’re able to have a _real_ family? Do you really think They would let you have offspring?”

“What do you mean?” Tyler snaps though the surmises start to surface.

Blurry is looking at him now, red eyes almost melt the glass.

“Do you still think you’re fully functional and anatomically correct?” 

Tyler is dumbstruck. He and Josh aren’t planning kids, not at this point in time at least, but Blurry’s words still have some logic —

“Once defected forever defected, T-21.”

Jenna parts her lips with the obvious intention to ask something about Tyler’s probable infertility, but Blurry jerks on his seat, rocking forward and struggling with the straps.

“We have to stop it. Right now,” Blurry groans through the cheeping of his helmet.

“No,” Jenna cuts him off abruptly.

“It’s not because of me, it’s because of him,” Blurry sputters towards Tyler.

Tyler can feel a thick chain squeezing his skull.

“What?!”

“I can cause an aneurysm in his brain.”

Then, he just winks at Tyler.

And an invisible faucet in Tyler’s head begins to drip blood on his lap — he tries to staunch it, but Blurry sinks his talons into Tyler’s malleable gray matter.

It’s like a head-on collision with a concrete wall.

“Tyler, fight it!”

Tyler can only hold his hand under his nose not to let himself bleed all over his clothes.

“What? You have to stop it right the fuck now- Jen, he’s about to fucking faint, please, do something!”

Tyler’s blood keeps gushing out through his fucked up nostrils.

“Ms. Black, I don’t think he can handle the pressure-”

Tyler’s eyesight has never been worse than it is now.

“Focus, Tyler, focus, you’re the one who can resist him!”

“I can’t,” Tyler exhales, bloodied fingertips on the button already. “‘M sorry, I can’t.”

When his palm smashes the button into the wall, the room turns red, indicating the end of their confrontation. Jenna clenches her fists with a clear ‘damn’ in her eyes. The skin on Tyler’s face feels disgusting as he presses his sleeve to his nose, ripping the patches and wires off his head with his free hand. He nearly falls back onto his seat when he stands up.

The equipment, the chairs and table turn to just a whirlwind of flashing lights, swirling all around Tyler as if he is riding a carousel.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, slugging to the exit without permission.

Tears pricking his bloodshot eyes — not because he’s crying in pain, he just can’t control it. His system is just falling apart.

“Mr. Joseph,” Hayley touches his elbow as he passes by the table. “I can offer my help if you-”

“No, I’m fine,” Tyler responds, stumbling into the hallway. He needs more room to catch his breath. “I’m not fine,” he tells to Jenna as she storms out of the lab.

“We’ve almost finished the experiment, I had just a few questions left,” she utters. “You were about to defeat him.”

She gives him a paper napkin, but it’s too late — the blood soaks through the fabric on his chest.

Tyler hurries towards the WC sign, leaving Jenna behind, but now here’s Josh —

“Ty, wait,” he gasps.

“Don’t follow me,” Tyler makes him fall silent. “You know, I’m not gonna slit m-my wrists in the stall.”

He just needs to stop the flow.

With that, he sniffs hard and shuffles down the hallway.

And Josh doesn’t follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm about to finish it yay


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Josh turns to one of those sectarians who are holding up their carton signs with prophecies scribbled across.

The water runs red, drying on the edges of the sink as Tyler leans over it and presses his forehead to a cool mirror.

 _‘He’s just a figment of my imagination,’_ Tyler persuades himself. His head hurts and so does his stomach — he should’ve eaten something not to increase his anguish. He wonders what time it is — he wonders how much he’s screwed up, he prays for the experiments to be over. Blurry’s still filling his headspace, and Tyler splashes his face with cold water before blinking the drops away and taking a ragged breath.

“Stupid blood vessels,” Tyler curses as he pinches his nose.

He closes his eyes again, feeling a hand sliding between his shoulder blades. Up and down, the fabric of his shitty coverall rustles under a heavy palm.

“Tyler? How are you?”

“Awful, but thanks for asking,” Tyler spits into the sink.

He has to keep up his façade for Josh —

Then, he realizes that the man who’s rubbing his back now is not Josh. And he definitely wants to get something from Tyler.

“Tyler?”

“Merrick?”

Tyler blows his nose into a paper towel.

“You can just go back to the nurse and grab some pills.”

“You can just fuck off.”

He doesn’t care if he’s about to get punched in the face. He doesn’t care that his lungs turn to the two useless lumps.

“I want to talk.”

“I need to get out,” Tyler gasps. “I can’t fucking _breathe_.”

He scurries to the exit when Merrick’s hand hooks the back of his collar, dragging him back. He’s certainly about to apply a grappling hold, so Tyler attempts to prevent it, lashing out.

“I just. Want. To. Talk,” Merrick syllables.

Tyler is seeking for protection, one arm wrapped over his too tight chest and the other just hanging lifelessly, sprained and cottonwool-like; he pants with his mouth ajar, but there’s no air anymore, and he just slumps into the wall.

“What the hell? Stop making scenes!” Merrick glowers at him, releasing Tyler from his grip and letting him skidto his knees.

“Just needed t-to sit down,” Tyler bristles. He presses his palm to his racing heart to gather the chunks if it explodes right now.

“I did it?” Merrick crouches down next to him and points at Tyler’s rolled up sleeve. The varicolored bruises are exposed in all their glory.

“There’s something wrong with the bone,” Tyler pokes at his most likely dislocated, blue wrist. “No one cares though.”

Merrick doesn’t treat him with much compassion, just turning away from Tyler’s injured forearm.

“You can heal yourself.”

“Can you just shut up?”

Tyler’s inner self keeps yammering about how unfair the whole situation is — why can’t he just live one day without pain or without getting his ass in troubles?

“You said you didn’t kill them,” Merrick bothers his nonexistent peace of mind again. “What did you mean?”

“Your parents,” Tyler shrugs, watching the fluorescent lights flickering on the ceiling. “A car crash had taken their lives, am I right? The day They dropped me on your p-planet.”

It’s still pretty hard to speak, and he’s pretty sure Merrick isn’t going to listen to his ranting while he’s lounging on the bathroom floor with the blood smudged down the front of his clothes.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tyler utters, sniffing. “But I h-had to find the files about them in VESSEL archive, and…” he rabidly rubs a red wet spot on his knee. “I didn’t kill them.”

“How?” Merrick yanks at the collar of Tyler’s uniform again. “I thought you were just twaddling about those Contactees!”

“Just wanted to find out the reason of your hate,” Tyler responds. The coldness of the tiles makes him shrink. Or maybe it’s just the perspective of getting knocked out for his words.

Merrick doesn’t look mad though his words say otherwise.

“I hate you anyway.”

“I hate you too,” Tyler gives as good as he gets.

“They were…” Merrick’s voice wavers. “My parents were too young, you know.”

“But they weren’t even in the epicenter of the incident! The light was not a thing that had hurt them,” Tyler almost screams as he recalls the most vivid flashbacks. “It was a mysterious case, I know, they’d probably seen the outlines, but there also was a blizzard, Merrick.”

“Leave this shit for the charge sheet,” Merrick barks angrily. “But I know that your fucking spaceship destroyed my parents’ car!”

“But it wasn’t me!” Tyler loses his composure, voice is too loud for the empty room.

“You’re a potentially dangerous alien-made mistake,” Merrick says with a fading confidence. “There were no any trees or lampposts, and their car was smashed down like a tincan. Along with my Mom and Dad.”

“I know,” Tyler gulps his own rage down. “I’m sorry. It looked just terrible.”

Tyler hates his curiosity sometimes.

“I thought breaking you down would help,” Merrick’s mumbling now, hands still on Tyler’s collar, nearly ripping it off. “I only wanted to see you suffer, to see you lose everything you loved- but then I just realized there wasn’t much. Of course, I could kill Josh or…” Merrick flashes him an uncertain glance. “Or Jenna. I hated it how stubborn she was about you and how much she refused to admit that you were just a mindless criminal. VESSEL wasn’t supposed to let you live a normal life.”

“What do you call a normal life?” Tyler chuckles sadly. “If you wanted to take revenge on me, you’ve done it already.”

“But my parents’ car-”

“Went through an energy wave. Got slammed by the energy dome,” Tyler assumes. “Josh was able to create them, too.”

“I’m really glad he can’t do this anymore.”

Merrick is so passionate about taking any superpowers away Tyler thinks it’s ridiculous.

“Overheard our conversation?”

“Yeah.”

Merrick sneers complacently.

“If VESSEL gives me a second chance, will you try to kill me?” Tyler asks, scrubbing the red crust off his fingernails.

“That won’t bring my family back. And… and Zack,” Merrick sighs humbly. “Do you know what unites us?” he suddenly turns to Tyler. “Our hate towards your twin.”

“He’s a clone.”

“Whatever,” Merrick cracks his knuckles. “I thought you were my worst nightmare, and now I have two dudes with identical faces.”

“But he’s been killing people and I’ve just accidentally witnessed that,” Tyler defends himself. “He _made me_ watch it.”

Merrick’s face doesn’t express anything as he presses his lips into a thin line.

“Tyler?” the voice calls, followed by the footsteps.

Tyler doesn’t even have time to hoist himself up on his feet — Josh flees across the restroom in a rush, looking daggers at Merrick and hurrying to pick Tyler up off the floor.

“Tyler? You’ve been here for so long, and I thought…” he points his finger at Merrick, who is silent. “I thought something bad happened. I think I was right though.”

The skin on Tyler’s cheek feels icky and flakey as he just tries to smile. It’s more of a grimace of pain though. He doesn’t care.

“Nothing happened.”

It could be worse, at least.

He just lets Josh help him stand up, heart thuds so deafeningly it hurts — one more trip to the sink, water running red again from the unwashed blood on his hands. Tyler’s probably looking like a handicapped person, an experiment went wrong — Merrick is still here, still behind his back, still waiting.

Tyler doesn’t have enough strength to be bothered about how unattractive he looks right now.

“Has it stopped?”

Tyler nods.

“Damn, it doesn’t look like it has.”

He’s pathetic, he thinks. It brings some twisted satisfaction.

Tyler steadies himself against the sink to wash away the ugly red specks; he almost chokes on the water cupped in his hands when Merrick begins to speak again.

“Does he always act like this?”

“Like what?” Josh is on the attacking position, backing Merrick to the exit.

“Like… fuck. How do you live with him? He doesn’t even notice us-”

“He’s hiding.”

“Where?!” Merrick raises his hand but Josh is batting it away instantly.

Josh taps his fingers on his temple.

“Here.”  

And Tyler just imagines that this paper towel is his mask — he’s forced to take it off when it starts to fall apart right on his wet blotchy face.

“We need to go,” Tyler says sternly, throwing the scraps of paper into a trashcan under the sink.

Josh is his support now, jaws clenched.

“Let’s go.” 

Tyler doesn’t even pay attention to Merrick as Josh takes him out of the restroom — exhaustion and hunger are about to simply turn his brain off — and Merrick is sticking his hand out.

“What about to forget about some of this shit?” he suggests benevolently.

Tyler wants to fight him, to make Merrick’s blackeye even bigger.

“A handshake?”

Merrick is waiting.

Tyler’s going to hold grudges for forever.

“No, my hand is wet,” he replies, thrusting his fists into his pockets.

For the first time, Tyler _doesn’t want_ to forget about anything.

 

***

“What do you mean saying you want to try again?”

Jenna’s skinny frame is the only barrier between Tyler and the laboratory door.

“I need to see him once again,” Tyler insists. The light bulbs above his head won’t stop shimmering, instigating him to do such strange things.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No, I’m being s-serious,” he rolls his eyes as his tongue tricks him again.

She’s not going to let him do this **.** And Josh is hanging on her every word.

“Let’s maybe do this tomorrow? Tyler,” Josh’s intonation is soothing, but in the most ‘are-you-nuts?’ way.

“I need to talk to Blurry,” Tyler’s obstinacy has always been a _thing_. “Tête-à-tête.”

As if the planetary system is going to disintegrate into atoms if Tyler doesn’t get what he wants.

“We’re going to lock him in the cell for the rest of night,” Jenna protests tiredly.

“Oh, did you just say ‘Tyler, you can go and talk to him’? Thanks,” Tyler bends a little and pecks Jenna’s cheek at the same time slightly pushing the girl off his way. “Thanks. I need just five minutes without cameras, and without anyone in the room,” he commands, entering a dimly lit hall and closing the door behind him.

Blurry is still here, an eerie sculpture, more asleep than awake; his eyes snap open as Tyler clears his throat and knocks on the glass barricade three times.

“Look who’s back,” Blurry coughs up a laughter. “Little boy hasn’t learned the lesson?”

There is a small green lamp blinking near the microphone. Tyler doesn’t know how to cut off the recording — there’s a thick black wire snaking down to the socket, but he supposes that touching VESSEL equipment is an actual criminal offense.

There’s no helmet on Blurry’s head, hair mussed and unkempt, pupils dilated; leather straps leave wide blue-red lines on his skin.

Tyler wishes he had an ability to kill with just his gaze.

“See? I won,” he says.

Blurry doesn’t hesitate to give him an instant reply —

“You can’t win. You can only call a truce.”

He sighs then, looking bored.

“They tried to scrape off the ink,” Blurry suddenly says. “Their attempts looked funny, that cheered me up. I can’t think straight right now- the nurse was told to sedate me, but I saw that the syringe was just half full. The agents knew you were going to get back to me, they knew.”

Tyler hates the fact how cognizant of everything Blurry is.

“And so, what the heck is this?” Tyler is a bad-tempered person, and Blurry is not a fast narrator.

“On my hands?” Blurry bridles up, clearly understanding him. “On my neck? Nevermind, it’s just an additional kind of marking. You’re getting this when you’re doing something to complete your Mission, to please Them.”

“Wait,” Tyler signals him to stop. “You get this when you kill somebody?”

“Only when you kill a Contactee,” Blurry corrects him. “It doesn’t work with humans.”

“Why did they choose to do it this way?” Tyler is persistent, leaning on the glass.

Blurry chortles.

“They just want to be sure you obey Them, silly.” 

“And what’s then? When it’s over?” 

“They’re taking you back.”

“And?”

“And it’s over for you.”

“Death,” Tyler combs his fingers through his hair. “Of course!.. I should’ve known, of course!” he paces across the room, nearly wanting to slam his fist on the glass. “Death is the endpoint. That’s why- that’s why you don’t care. You’ve been fucking prepared, an extraterrestrial piece of shit!”

Tyler’s reflection is the third interlocutor, a phantom on a transparent wall.

“I don’t understand why humans worship life. Wouldn’t it be easier if you could just exist without crying over your passed away pet-rabbits?” Blurry’s swinging his legs, which only irritates Tyler more.

“Rabbits? You killed people, how can’t you get this?” Tyler roars, coveting to land a punch.

“Just can’t fight against my true essence,” Blurry jerks under his fetters. “Abby Vaughn? Do you really feel sorry about her? She was just a middle-aged hysterical woman!” he rasps. “Taylor and Lewinsky? Those gentlemen were just waiting for the spaceship to take them to heaven. I saved them, Tyler,” his red eyes gleam with a dementedfire **.** “And the others are bound to suffer until death takes pity on them.”

Tyler’s thoughts are jumping frantically, combining into an unrecognizable mess; _Lana Bakker, an Incident near the lake, was pregnant with twins when it happened — black bands on Tyler’s left hand; Andrew Collins, her boyfriend, he had been with her in the car the whole time — that’s what they told him when he found them — an outlines of rectangles on the left side of Tyler’s chest. Chris Salih — intertwined triangles on the right — Chris was getting ready to graduate from Oxford Aviation Academy when the glowing sphere crashed through the jet trainer and blinded him._

“Talking to you is like talking to an infant. It’s not that I’ve had a chance to interact with one, but I’m pretty sure I can draw parallels.”

“Ah?”

Tyler’s disguise bursts like a soap bubble.

“You have troubles with attentiveness,” Blurry remarks. “You have to play those ‘spot the difference’ games.”

“What’s the cause or the redness of your irises?”

“Um,” Blurry gnaws the inside of his cheek. “Since They figured out that the brown-eyed man was a failure They decided to change the details. And here I am- red-eyed and able to see in the dark perfectly.”

Tyler stares at him unabashedly. He’s almost amazed.

“And your eyesight isn’t great, is it?”

“It-t’s…” Tyler fluctuates. “It’s going bad.”

Sometimes it’s hard to catch the shapes of the objects a few feet away. Blurry is just a box of secrets and Tyler can’t crack it open — he’s close, really, really close, the answer is on the tip of his tongue, but the key keeps slipping away.

“Tyler, your time is over!” Jenna calls him, standing near the door.

“But I haven’t finished…”

“We’ll finish tomorrow,” her silhouette sneaks into the doorframe. Tyler squints at the light. “You have to change and go get a decent sleep, come on,” she waves her hand, and Tyler doesn’t actually want to disappoint her. “I’ll call Mark and Merrick to take him to the cell until the morning.”

It’s better to leave Blurry alone now.

“It’s like 3:20AM now,” Josh reports groggily.

“Good, it’s time to go to sleep,” Jenna presses her knuckles to her mouth to muffle her yawning. “Here’s the room in the south wing, I’ll guide you.”

She locks the door, then beckoning to Tyler and Josh; it’s a promenade through a couple of doors, down a couple of hallways — Tyler even forgets about the hunger that probably still tortures his empty stomach — sleep deprivation is his main problem at the moment. Josh keeps gibbering something in a panicky tone, holding Tyler by the shoulders but the air is as viscid as syrup and Tyler’s shoes stick to the floor.

He doesn’t actually remember all the way down here — the next moment there’s a bed right in front of him, so welcoming and comfy he just falls face first beside the pillow, out like a light.   

 

***

The grumbling in Tyler’s stomach is like an alarm clock. He rubs his face, cringing at the shagginess of a woolen blanket draped over his body. He doesn’t remember taking his coverall off.

“There was so much blood on it,” Josh answers his unasked question. “I thought you didn’t want to sleep in dirty clothes.”

Josh is sitting on the edge of a single bed in the room, eyes sleepy and curls disheveled.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Tyler yawns. Even the thought of Blurry’s deactivation can’t keep him fully awake. Despite the drowsiness, he feels pretty fine — the migraine doesn’t tantalize his head, and the bones in his right arm don’t seem shattered anymore.

“Jenna was here a couple of minutes ago,” Josh informs him. “She wanted to check if we were okay after… all.”

“I’m feeling much better today,” Tyler says, feeling a strange burst of inspiration. “I’m gonna make it through the day if no one makes me bleed again.”

“Jenna’s probably waiting outside,” Josh tells him. “I couldn’t sleep well while your stomach was making sounds of a dying whale, and she actually wants to feed us.”

“That’s good.”

The thought about food makes Tyler’s mouth water.

“Alright, get dressed and let’s go find her,” Josh points at the chair across the room. There’s Tyler’s clothes piled on it, his hoodie and sweatpants and that horrible coverall is nowhere to be found.

“I’m starving,” it’s addressed to the odd noises from Tyler’s stomach. He doesn’t even flinch when Jenna peeks into the room.

“Are you awake?”

“No,” Tyler says honestly, pulling up his pants and tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down. “This bed is way nicer than the one in our cell.”

“Though you nearly kicked me off,” Josh smirks. “Who’s ready for some breakfast?”

“Me,” Tyler lifts his hand, earning a nervous chuckle from Jenna.

Without a can of RedBull, he’s going to fall into a coma.

 

***

Though, it turns out that no one is going to provide him even a drop of RedBull.

They’re sitting in a cafeteria that belongs to VESSEL — it’s something of a hash house with the military interior — there are rather uncomfortable chairs and small sickly-grey tables — but it means nothing to Tyler when there’s a plate full of delicious steak with green peas and carrots right in front of him.

“Finally you’re eating,” Jenna hums contentedly. She barely touches her own food though.

“It’s really nice,” Josh murmurs, sticking his fork into the broiled meat.

Tyler is probably going into a phase of nervous eating — he devours the steak in seconds, then washing it down with a long chug of coffee.

“When are you going to kill Blurry?” Tyler asks, voice low in case the walls listen to them.

Josh nearly chokes on a mouthful of carrots.

“It’s not a killing thing, it’s just…” Jenna pauses, picking up the words.

“It’s a deactivation, yeah, I know,” Tyler interrupts her. “When are you going to end my sufferings?”

“Today,” Jenna strikes him down with the answer. “He’s… I tried to block him last night, but he didn’t say anything. Was just sitting and staring at the wall, and it made me think of you, and…” she smiles sadly. “I still regret I wasn’t there when the agents captured you and Josh for the first time.”

Tyler glances down at the bruise overlapping the line of hieroglyphs on his hand.

“I’m not that sentimental.” 

Full stomach doesn’t actually help him fight fatigue so Tyler places his elbows on the table and tries to hold his head up using his hand. It doesn’t work though, because the weight of responsibility is mostly lying on VESSEL’s shoulders now, and Tyler just wants to sleep more than anything.

Josh nudges his side.

“Don’t sleep until it’s over.”

“I hope that bastard gets his just deserts,” Tyler mumbles.

Jenna keeps talking about caffeine and about how it’s supposed to stimulate his central nervous system, but he begins to drift off already — just for a minute until somebody tousles his hair.

“He’s cute when he’s sleeping.”

Josh huffs beside him, and Tyler suddenly realizes that his face is on the same level with the empty plate — a napkin under his cheek — he jolts awake, at the same time endeavoring to act as if he hasn’t fallen asleep at the table.

“You?!” Tyler straightens up, slack-mouthed.

“Me,” the man smiles, nestling on the chair next to Jenna.

“Chris is working here,” Jenna enlightens him.

“And how… long?”

Chris has changed since the last time Tyler saw him — he grew a reddish beard and gained some weight, but it’s… it’s Chris anyway, Tyler’s most unique experience.

“For two years, I guess?” Chris scratches his chin, looking at Jenna. “Got an invitation soon after our meeting in the hospital.”

“In the hospital,” Tyler repeats blankly. “Cool.”

Josh glances at Jenna then at Chris then turning to Tyler.

“Am I the only one who has no clue of what’s going on?” 

Chris ignores all three of them.

“I was terrified when Merrick mentioned Tyler Joseph was here, and then I spotted you in the main office- red-eyed and with that black tar on your neck and hands-”

“Um. It wasn’t me-”

“I realized.”

“Can please somebody explain what’s going on and why does everyone keep pretending I don’t exist?” Josh’s fist hits the table, the cups jump up, coffee splatters out.

“Chris is my friend,” Tyler replies, thinking if it is Josh’s jealousy or something else.

“You know, when you are in your twenties and get terrible backaches after being attacked by UFO and literally falling from the sky, you can believe anything,” Chris tells to Josh. “When you’re half-blind because of the same thing- it makes you weak, and your young age makes you even weaker.”

“You don’t look like you have any diseases,” Josh narrows his eyes. “And I definitely can guess why.”

“I was going to end up chained to a wheelchair and he was crying a lot,” Chris says, grinning good-naturedly. “What a weird couple, I thought; she tried to calm him down and urge him to just  _wait_ , but he was like, non compos mentis,” he adds, making Tyler feel ashamed.

“It wasn’t like that,” he mutters.

“It was,” Jenna interjaculates between the sips of her coffee.

“That hospital had become my home and I didn’t actually expect something could ever get changed, but it had changed,” Chris leans forward. “Though then he passed out because of _my_ pain and I hadn’t seen him until the morning.”

“The first person you’ve ever healed?” Josh is agitated, patting Tyler’s hand.

Tyler notes how many emotions Chris puts into his words.

“Exactly.” 

“This guy is a walking miracle,” Chris speaks to both Josh and Jenna. “Keep an eye on him.”

There’s no need to babysit him all the time — Tyler is about to fall to pieces from the inner conflict, _he’s not a baby_ —

“Yeah, we need to save him from getting kidnapped again,” Josh agrees with him, in all seriousness.

“Man, I’m not joking — I thought I was going to throw myself into a dump, but he re-established my condition,” Chris gets more and more talkative, gazing at Tyler with respect. “And now I have a job, I have a wife and our kid is on the way.”

Tyler avoids an eye contact. It’s not even a trigger.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away that night,” Chris squirms in his chair.

“No, no, that was fine.” 

To be honest, Tyler doesn’t remember crying a lot — he doesn’t remember much of that hospital admission, only a burning sensation on his fingertips when he massaged Chris’s back in the waiting room. The pain under the bandages increased, igniting his already broken ribs and his spine and then somebody had just turned the lights off. He woke up in the hospital ward, hearing Jenna arguing with the doctor about BFS and about a chemical compound they found in his blood.

He got marked that day, soon after his and Jenna’s trip back home — in the middle of the night, writhing on the bed and gasping for breath, but the painkillers and sleeping pills alleviated his agony while the tattoos on his torso were drawing themselves.

“I’m glad you’re doing fine, Chris,” Tyler rests his hands on his thighs. “Can I have one more cup of coffee?” he looks at Jenna, checking her reaction. It’s better than keeping the flow of a perturbing conversation.

“Yeah,” Jenna gets up from the table and heads to the counter.

There’s a blue-haired girl in VESSEL uniform, queuing up along with other agents and holding the tray in her hands; Tyler can’t see her face clearly, but something in her style makes him jittery.

“See?” he kicks Josh’s leg under the table. “I could tell she was not just a dancer when she punched me.”

Josh watches her, the fork in his palm is about to break.

“Never trust a girl,” he ruffles his fading purple mohawk. The girl doesn’t turn to them, and Tyler has no desire to go and figure anything out.

“Oh, it’s Ashley, one of our undercover agents,” Chris explains. “She’s new.”

“Of course,” Tyler grumbles. “She’s new.”

It’s gonna be a long day.

 

***

Within the next three hours, the suspense vibrates in every cell of Tyler’s body. He and Josh are just hanging out in their room by themselves, not allowed to go anywhere else until Jenna gets the results of Blurry’s medical survey. All what Tyler can do is bite at his nails and count the cracks in the cement floor — never step on cracks or parallel universe will swallow you up.

Though, VESSEL is a parallel universe itself.

“No signal,” Josh lays his phone on the table.

“Radiowaves here are quite unfriendly,” Tyler watches the two small antennas in the top right corner of the room. “I think the agents are now getting him through the last phase before his death. I kind of want to break into the lab and take the lead,” he stands up to stretch his stiffened up muscles. “I bet they have n-no clue what they’re doing.”

“Awesome news. That’s what I need to stop being anxious,” Josh scoffs, still trying to make his half-dead phone catch the Wi-Fi.

“Killing Blurry is the best thing VESSEL can do for us,” Tyler says stoutly, certainly scaring Josh with his bloodlust — Josh shakes his head, something in between of ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

For Tyler, being cryptic was actually a good way to improve their relationship. Josh is usually the one who has problems with keeping his mouth shut, but at least, his jokes and crappy puns aren’t illegal.

“Well, at least we’re not getting vaccinated this time,” Josh flicks the screen again.

Finding the similarities between the cluster of thin lines under his foot and the lightning in the sky might be the first sign of mental illness.

“How did you take the microchip out?”

Josh drops his phone on the floor.

An obscure vision in Tyler’s head vanishes. He doesn’t even register Jenna sitting on the bed next to him.

“Which tools did you use for the surgery?”

“We…” Josh bends to pick his phone up. “A scalpel and some forceps Tyler had in his travel trailer, and I was afraid that I could kill him.”

There are small brown spots on the sleeves of Jenna’s uniform.

“I wanted to watch the work of the _professionals_ ,” Tyler mutters resentfully.

“Your chip is broken,” Jenna pinches the skin on Tyler’s neck, where the implant once was. “I just wanted to know how to take it out without ruining the mechanism.”

“And?”

“I failed,” Jenna admits. “It probably doesn’t work without a patient’s energy or maybe it’s just too fragile. At least, it didn’t explode in front of my nose,” she tries to laugh, but her smile fades as soon as it appears.

“What’s going on?” Tyler asks warily. “Are we going to just sit here instead of finishing _our_ work?”

“He looks like you.”

“Not completely.”

“He. Looks. Like. You,” tears brimming Jenna’s eyes as she speaks. “This doesn’t let me be as brutal as I can be, you know.”

“What a cool excuse to delay his execution,” Tyler makes her trail off, sounding a little too uncivilly.

“You don’t understand, it’s a psychological thing,” Jenna tries to explain. “I’ve just vaccinated him, took the implant out, but I’m just not sure if the telepathic tie has been chopped.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no connection,” Tyler resents. “I’m feeling much better now. Don’t overreact.”

“So you still want to say there’s a chance that Tyler might die if you deactivate Blurry?” Josh is a pure panic, lips lost their color.

Jenna’s nod only spices it up.

“Don’t tell me it’s not a conspiracy!”

Sometimes Josh turns to one of those sectarians who are holding up their carton signs with prophecies scribbled across.   

“Stop it,” Tyler cries out so sharply he thinks his heart might fall out of his mouth. “Just. S-stop it. We all know what we have to do, no matter what- this little sadist can just acclimatize himself, can get used to any serums in his b-blood, and what’s then?” he gets no answer. “He’s going to destroy VESSEL, well, it’s not that I don’t like this idea, but whatever. You can’t just chicken out, if you’re afraid to press the button then tell me what to do and I finish it by myself.”

Tyler doesn’t want to die.

But he’s ready to go to extremes.

“Where is he now?” Josh asks.

“We’ve isolated him.”

“Until the deactivation?”

“Yeah. It’s actually…” Jenna falters. “It’s the _time_.”

“So let’s get up and do something? Tyler is suddenly encouraged, as if the end of the war is shimmering at the end of the mythical road.

Here’s just one nuance and it all will be done.

Jenna walks to the door silently; Tyler stumbles after her, ready to maintain his friend as she leads them to the final point. Even Josh stops fiddling with his phone and just holds Tyler’s hand, hot and dry palm against Tyler’s cold and wet one. Long hallways look unusually deserted, too much glass and metal, too much danger of getting murdered by the monsters lurking in local laboratories.

The final point is a huge metal door with the black and yellow sticker reading DO NOT ENTER.

And of course, the warning means nothing to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BFS (Benign fasciculation syndrome) is a neurological disorder characterized by fasciculation (twitching) of various voluntary muscles in the body. - wiki  
> \---  
> who fails at counting chapters? meee


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve never seen the sky like this; you never wanna die like this.”
> 
> — Scars on Broadway, _Universe_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also inspired by twenty one pilots - hometown

Here’s a bunker. A typical one — with metal sheets on the walls, with the steel grid in the farthest corner; the atmosphere here creates an illusion of the sagging in the ceiling.

And here’s the vacuum chamber. It’s bulky and transparent, black tubes and cables entwine it, and here’s a centrifugal pump connected to a buzzing machine that looks a little like a fridge.

Tyler is confused.

He expected to see an electric chair, a strappado or the Hell’s fire, but here’s the most innocent apparatus he could ever imagine.

“The hoses will pump a soporific gas into the chamber that will work on T-21b like a general anesthetic, and it will make the process as painless as possible,” Jenna points at a thick ribbed tube on the top of the chamber. “Then, the tank will be filled with the solution of formaldehyde in water and some _legal_  ingredients I’m not allowed to mention because I don’t wanna get sued,” Jenna waves her arm towards a plexiglass box. “And there’ll be the end of his brain’s activity. This method will help us keep his biological cells and his internal organs from decomposition; we’ve done an X-ray and discovered that his entrails are similar to yours, or to humans’, despite the peculiarity of his blood.”

“And that’s what the deactivation is?” Tyler feels a bit sick as he thinks of his own body being locked up here. “It d-doesn’t sound like the worst ordeal. I can guess why he’s not afraid.”

“We shouldn’t torture the people we’re working with,” Jenna says, putting her hand on the handgun holster.

“I’ll print these words out across the souvenir magnet and present it for Merrick’s Birthday,” Tyler grumbles.

This makes Josh giggle though he promptly turns away and covers his lips with his hand. Poor Josh’s nerves.

“He’s about to arrive,” Jenna forewarns him. “And… then we’ll start, I think.”

The chamber still doesn’t look like a deathbed. It mostly reminds Tyler of a showcase.

Waiting doesn’t take long — Tyler doesn’t even have the time to ask about the difference between the deactivation and embalming —

“The Object T-21b is ready for the deactivation.”

“Damn,” Josh curses, shuddering at the sound. There’s no echo.

Tyler tries his best to assume a dignified air as the _prisoner_ enters the bunker. Blurry’s hair is gone — here’s only a dark shadow on his head where the quiff was; here’s the bottom-of-the-boot shaped bruise on his side, occupying the area from his lower ribs to his hipbone. Here’s a bluish lump at the base of his black neck, hues of purple and red near the neatly stitched up incision behind his left ear.  

Blurry’s hands are chained in front of him, wrists scraped and elbows skinned, blood mixed with dust. The skin over Blurry’s Adam’s apple is sprinkled with fingerprint bruises, there are needle-marks on the soft spot above his collarbones.

And here’s Merrick, holding Blurry as he sways with a guttural moan. Merrick’s knuckles are all beaten and swollen.

“Here’s the end where I belong,” Blurry says hoarsely, his mouth bleeds along with the words.

Tyler has no witty remarks.

Blurry smiles, the scab in corner of his lips is chapping, skin looks sore and his eyelashes are wet. Tyler catches himself on looking at him as if he’s a mirror — the resemblances are just fearful. The lack of the microchip makes Blurry almost _maudlin_.

Blurry doesn’t lose his grace even when he’s getting humiliated like this, mauled and stripped down to just his underwear.

“You have a question? I have an answer. What a wonderful coincidence,” his ribcage contracts as he coughs, a string of blood and mucus hangs from his bottom lip. “Pardon me,” with the back of his hand, he smears it across his chin. “They raised us in similar chambers, but they were full of the nutrient solution instead of… am I right assuming I’m going to be kept here for the sake of science?”

He tilts his head, waiting. Merrick is being ridiculously patient. He’s a statue with his hands iron-gripping Blurry’s biceps.     

“We’re going to perform the trepanation and take your brain out,” Jenna says, clicking the toggle switches on the equipment beside the chamber.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s bothering me — I can already feel a fragment of my rib tickling my lung,” Blurry sasses.

“Raised?” Josh’s equanimity breaks. “What do you mean by _raised?”_

“An embryo, an infant, an adolescent, an adult, do you need me to give you a biology textbook?” Blurry retorts, eyes grow redder. “They just take the cells and let them grow.”

“They don’t create us like this?” Tyler can’t wrap his head over it. 

The chain between Blurry’s wrists jingles when he lifts his hands to wipe the blood off his mouth once again.

“You are welcome.”

And Tyler tries to remember, he knows the place now, the almond-eyed faces in the reflected luminescent lights, but the hole in his memory is so big it nearly splits his head in two. He was a kid. Technically, he was a baby, a teenager, but while the young boys on Earth were experiencing their first nocturnal emissions or their first sexual contacts, he was stuck in the glass tank, conserved, pulled into a slumber.

“I know you’re filming,” Blurry nods at a tiny diode near the chamber. “Can I leave a message?”

If he’s not going to show them one of his horrendous pranks, then the serum has created a miracle.

Josh begins to pull his hair.

Blurry is coughing again, pressing both of his palms to his left side.

“Yes,” Jenna gives him permission after checking her gun for the second time.

“So nice,” Blurry flashes a gallant smile. “I will never regret what I’ve done,” he says pointedly, words addressed to the camera hidden behind one of the tubes. “I realize I’m going to get deactivated at this juncture, and the earthlings are finally going to get a real alien autopsy tape,” he bites at his wobbling bottom lip. “It was worth it. I got caught, it was probably my only one fatal mistake, but I don’t. Regret. Anything,” he emphasizes. “To my Creators — I believe you. I believe your every single word, every single piece of wisdom you put into my brain, and only my faith was keeping me awake and alive — until now. Life on Earth is cruel, I gotta go now — I don’t know what’s on the other side of the medal, but I believe my restless mind gets back where it belongs. I never say goodbye to you,” Blurry ends his speech with his voice cracking in Tyler’s manner. “I’m ready,” he turns to the agents.

“Somebody, give him Oscar for Best Actor,” Merrick derides Blurry’s momentary feebleness.

A short wave of gleaming pierces through all of Blurry’s tattoos, all similar to Tyler’s.

“You’re so excited about that,” Blurry utters calmly. “You are a hypocrite, mister. I don’t mean to pry, but you just adore using your advantage to abase your _colleagues_. And do you really think there are no double standards?” he turns his head back. “Yes, I deserve an award for my hard work.”

“Death will be your award,” Merrick hisses.

Blurry coughs up more phlegm into his mouth, struggling to force it down his throat.

“You two are the real freaks,” Josh’s upper lips twitches in disgust.

Tyler wonders how many broken bones it has taken to make Blurry less unemotional.

Jenna opens a plexiglass flap, gesturing at Blurry to enter the chamber. Merrick pushes him, and Blurry barely regains the balance not to fall over. 

There’s a single strap with the buckle — Jenna fixes it, wrapped across Blurry’s torso either not to let him slouch down when he dies or not to let him run away while he’s still alive. Blurry just stands here, surrounded by the glass walls, in just his plain black boxers, with his cuffed hands crossed over his crotch. He stares in nowhere, red sunken eyes and bruised skin, a narcissistic murderer with extremely low moral principles.

“Do you have a last wish?” Tyler asks, supposing that the VESSEL rules are still pretty similar to prisons’.

“I want our Mission to be complete,” Blurry responds with the same old laziness.

“I’m glad to say that’s not gonna happen,” Tyler cuts him off.

“I hope they will let me rebirth.”

These are Blurry’s last words — Jenna slams the flap shut, checking the rubberized slots as she turns to a whirring engine and makes some manipulations with the buttons and switches here.

The buzzing turns to humming then to a measured rumbling.

At first, there’s the gas — it clouds over Blurry’s bald head, making him squint, his red eyes are like headlights in the fog that settles down on his black neck. Tyler can see him trying to keep his eyes open until the end, to face his death armed and ready and fucking brave, but his muscles give up as his whole frame is being enveloped in a haze.

Then he falls asleep.

“Phase one is over,” Jenna states.

Another button is pressed, and then there’s the azure liquid, slowly filling up the chamber, splashing around Blurry’s ankles and gradually getting up higher, licking his kneecaps, then embracing his thighs and making his hands waver as the solution reaches his waist level.

Tyler expects him to start convulsing, but Blurry looks so impossibly peaceful Tyler is envious.

The liquid washes over his darkened neck, then raises up to his jaws and then it finally covers his face — that’s the moment when Tyler notices a small bubble of air peeking out of Blurry’s left nostril and his eyes snap open —

“Fuck!”

Tyler falls back into Josh’s arms, clinging to him and watching the ripple of shivers racking through Blurry’s body — he arches his back and blinks and inhales and stops.

Blurry is made of stone, mouth a little open, red eyes half-lidded, an exhibit in the museum.

“Now we can see a full absence of breathing and brain’s activity, no signs of life,” Jenna reports to the camera. “Deactivation procedure complete.”

Tyler battles his fear as he steps towards the chamber and presses his palm to a cold surface. He almost expects Blurry to mimic his movement.

But it doesn’t happen.

_‘I hope they will let me rebirth.’_

A true believer never cries their heart out.

_‘I believe your every single word.’_

It still rings in Tyler’s ears.

Everyone needs a thing to believe in.

 

***

Tyler wants to visit a dissecting room, but Jenna stops him, saying they’re going to leave the body in a chamber for a while. Merrick stomps upstairs, grumbling profanities and throwing at Tyler some dubious glances.

“You’re not allowed to stay for an autopsy, what are you talking about?” Jenna turns the equipment off. Blurry’s body oscillates in a jelly-like substance. “I am not allowed either — it’s the government’s authority since this moment.”

Oh, Tyler is about to curse the government.

“But you’re gonna record that?”

“No,” Jenna protests. “Only the results of the investigation, not a process.”

“Let’s maybe leave the room then?” Josh offers shyly. “I’m not comfortable with… dead things.”

“Yeah, yes, good idea,” Jenna strolls towards the exit. “He’s not going to go anywhere.”

Tyler can’t shrug off the feeling of being watched by the pair of glassy red eyes. He wants to seal the door up with the DO NOT CROSS tape to make sure no one is going to get inside and steal the body or — this could be the most unpredictable plot twist — resurrect Blurry.  

Outside the bunker, nothing changes. The nervousness circulates in Tyler’s blood when Jenna squeezes his hand —

“We need to talk.”

Tyler almost hears ‘The Sound of Silence’ playing in the background at how cliché it is.

“What again?” Josh groans, leaning on the wall.

“It’s personal,” Jenna says cagily. “But you can go upstairs and wait on the balcony there- just please, don’t get into fights with anyone, and don’t get lost.”

Josh rolls his eyes like a rebel teen who’s listening to his parents’ rambling before going to the party. Josh isn’t much different from a rebel teen, in Tyler’s opinion.

Once they’re free from Josh’s presence, Jenna stops being an agent, letting some tears leak out of her eyes as she wraps her arms around Tyler’s waist, resting her head on his chest. It hurts, it hurts him each time — she was crying when he was leaving her for the first time. She was spewing out those ‘you-are-gonna-die-in-the-world-like-this’ words when she discovered his sinfulness, when she found a razorblade tucked in the drawer with his socks.

Because Tyler has always been the one who couldn’t keep any secrets.

Because Jenna has always been a good friend.

And he didn’t want to put his curse on her back — he couldn’t handle the marking, he was not a great healer — and she didn’t deserve to be a part of this nightmare.

And she was crying.

And he was buying a travel trailer, re-built from an old bus, he was living in the forest and then in another one. He was working on his own case, occasionally catching the signals from Space and selling them to anonymous buyers — it was almost like a business.

He was extremely lonely, but at least, that couldn’t hurt anyone.

And now Tyler misses it, misses his researches, his sleepless nights under the full moon, misses the times when he _hadn’t even planned to fall in love_ _with some random delivery guy_ —

“We did it,” Jenna whispers. “We did it.”

Tyler hugs her back.

“Let’s shoot a firework?” 

“We managed to save you, I was so terrified- I couldn’t banish those thoughts, couldn’t stop thinking of you getting deactivated just like this. I’m so damn happy VESSEL didn’t kill you,” she squeaks out. “You’ve got a good reputation. You saved an agent, you helped us find the perpetrator- I promise, they won’t spy on you anymore.”

“Really?” Tyler holds Jenna tighter, feeling her begin to tremble.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had a chance to work with,” she blurts out.

“What an honor,” Tyler jokes though his eyes kind of sting.

“I lied to you.”

“What?”

“When I said I was two years older than you- I…” she frowns. “I lied. Three, actually.”

“Am I supposed to hate you now?” Tyler smiles crookedly.

“No… Just wanted to break the ice,” Jenna’s frown deepens. “Because here are some things I’d like to share with you,” she heaves out a sigh. “We’ve spent the last night inspecting every single inch of Blurry’s body- do you still call him like this?”

Tyler doesn’t care.

“Fine. We’ve been examining Blurry’s body, and here’s what we’ve defined,” she looks up at Tyler and he gives her a mental sign to continue. “One: he hadn’t had any fingerprints which had made him a prefect slayer — it was almost impossible to detect him. Two: he was a virgin. You shouldn’t be surprised since his physical needs were lowered to the point he could spend days and even weeks without water and food, so sex was just insignificant for him. And three: do you remember what he said during an interrogation? About the inability to have offspring,” Jenna clues him carefully.

“Um, yes. Great,” Tyler begins to understand where she leads to and begins to blush in advance.

“We needed to perform the semen analysis to prove his words- damn, I’m probably gonna burn in Hell for explaining to an alien how to masturbate,” she half laughs half sobs.

Tyler wrinkles his nose.

“Are these details necessary?” 

“We hadn’t watched him during the… you know,” Jenna assures. “Later, he said that masturbation was overvalued.”

But Blurry was pretty aroused when Tyler kissed him at the warehouse.

This is one more difference between him and Blurry. Not because Blurry’s statement is a nonsense — but because Tyler googled everything in the first place. All of his physiological quirks he tried to learn, all of his reflexes — just to brace himself for the probing questions in the future. Tyler’s browsing history was — and still is — full of awkward combinations of words though that was much better than talking to Jenna when he started popping boners all of the sudden. The only thing Tyler has accomplished during his own _mind games_ was getting Blurry aroused, for the first time, probably; Tyler can swear he was the only person Blurry could _theoretically_ have sex with.

“And?”

“And… he’s sterile,” Jenna’s eyes are full of sorrow as if it’s her personal fault. “Sorry.”

“Shit,” Tyler breaks the hug and turns away. _It’s not a big deal, it’s not a problem, he doesn’t even like kids —_

“I can make a test if you want to know the truth-”

“No.”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone-”

“No!” Tyler shouts. “Not now. I don’t want t-to keep it in my head right now.”

“I understand if it hurts you-”

“It _doesn’t_ hurt me,” Tyler says sharply. “Take us home. Just not like the last time, please- I had a nosebleed and nearly gave Josh a heart-attack. He vomited his guts out because of that. Of m-maybe because of the sunstroke,” Tyler jerks his shoulder. “And we also saw crop circles. What a pretty picture to remember.”

“Meteorologists forecast the storm,” Jenna utters. “But we’ll extemporize.”

“Amazing,” Tyler works on bringing his spirit back. “Now there’s a possibility of skydiving.”

“We’ll try to sneak in the gap,” Jenna says. “The luck is on our side now.”

“Maybe,” Tyler agrees reluctantly. “Let’s go and find Josh? I really miss him,” he plays with the black ring on his finger. “This is stupid.”

“There’s nothing stupid in being in love,” Jenna reassures, staggering to the flight of stairs.

Tyler wants to start giving orders and find a soldier to just watch the bunker’s door, ready to beat everyone who’s about to encroach on its integrity.

But he isn’t doing anything.

 

***

Josh is waiting for them, grinningsourly as Tyler approaches him — briskly, as if there might be a barrier between them — and barely holds himself back not to start making out with Josh right now. Jenna goes to check the files in the archive, leaving them alone for a while.

And Tyler just wants to cuddle with Josh.

“Tyler!”

Tyler pulls back.

“Josh!”

Here’s a small tornado that almost sweeps them off their feet, Tyler hobbles backwards to give it more room — and he realizes he knows her. She’s kicking her legs and laughing cheerfully, a little sunshine with bright eyes and wide smile and braided hair —

“Amelia?” Tyler is smitten, he’s not prepared to meet a girl in such inappropriate place.

“Yes!” she’s sitting on Josh’s hands, trying to twitch the gauges from his stretched earlobes.

“Hey, princess,” Josh perks up and even stops looking as if he’s about to faint. “How are you doing?”

“We’re doing just fine!” Amelia exclaims, throwing her thumb up. “Daddy took me here today, Jo-o-o-sh, do you want to play?”

The answer comes before Josh opens his mouth —

“Not now, dear.”

Tyler feels dizzy.

Tyler feels dizzy when he shakes hands with the gangly man whose name symbolizes hospitals and _pain_. It’s not that Tyler is angry with Paul or something — it was his idea to heal his severe injuries. Because Amelia deserves to be raised in a family. But Tyler is pretty aware of how shitty he’d been feeling afterwards. 

“Tyler Joseph?” Paul lingers to unclench his fingers.

“It’s me,” Tyler mutters huskily.

Seeing Paul without those bandages and tubes is odd.

Seeing Paul standing on the ground and functioning properly is odd, too. So Tyler can’t fight the dismay, blushing and instantly turning pale but keeping up a grin.

His cheeks hurt.

“I just want to thank you,” Paul says, way too softhearted.

Tyler wordlessly absorbs Paul’s gratitudes.

“He’s glad he could help you,” Josh saves him, still holding Amelia on his arms.

“That accident somehow repaired my relationship with my almost-ex-wife,” Paul suddenly confesses. “She came back to us. So I think I can thank you for this, too.”

Tyler is definitely climbing up the career ladder.

“Have you seen the clouds?” Amelia joins the conversation. “I don’t like them, I want them to go away-”

“Am, we’re not talking about this here,” Paul scolds her softly.

“I just want to help,” Amelia hides her face in the crook of Josh’s neck. “Tyler doesn’t like it that the sky is acting _bad_ today.”

Tyler is about to fall to his knees and beg her for help, but it’s just a little girl anyway. Yes, she’s got these weather-controlling powers, but she’s just a kid. And yes, Tyler hates the upcoming storm. When he spots Jenna at the end of the hallway, he thinks about the vacant cars or about any other ways of leaving VESSEL.

“Pilot, pilot, it’s agent Black- yes. Yes. Is the helicopter ready?” Jenna scowls at the walkie-talkie in her hand. The words breaking through the sizzling are barely decipherable. “Yes. Gotcha. End,” she crosses her fingers. 

“Did he say anything good?” Tyler raises his eyebrow.

“If we’re taking off right now, we’re having a chance of not getting into the storm,” Jenna says. “And I will probably get a chance to get back to VESSEL along with Chris, that’s what he’s predicting.”

“Cool,” Josh nods and hands Amelia back to Paul. She rewards them with a mysterious smile, singing a song under her breath.

“Has the sky stopped acting bad?”

“Yes,” Jenna sighs for the umpteenth time this day.

Paul bites his knuckles.

Tyler’s soul exults.

 

***

Tyler is not even worried about the flight, sitting inside the helicopter and kissing Josh on the mouth as they take off — it’s like leaving all of his problems below, underground, as the clear sky welcomes them. Gifted people should always stand up for each other, there are no any signs of a nearing tempest.

“This girl has a great future,” Josh says, playing with his gauges just like Amelia did a while ago.

“I think so,” Tyler shrugs. “At least, VESSEL doesn’t try to block her powers,” it’s mostly addressed to Jenna whose face turns pink.

“And she’s definitely not a Contactee.”

Josh’s hand rests on Tyler’s upper thigh, rubbing the tattoo underneath his pants and getting closer, closer, closer to his crotch. Tyler scratches the back of his head.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, taking Josh’s hand in his own and not letting him keep embarrassing Jenna. Though the thought of having sex in a helicopter seems rather appealing.

“We’re not blocking you this time,” Jenna deadpans. The boxes on the floor are probably making more sense than Tyler’s words. “Though I know I’m supposed to, but it’s just a healing thing. You almost raised Paul from dead.”

“Yes, and that saved Josh’s life a couple of times,” Tyler sticks his tongue out. He looks through a porthole, Earth is miles below, white clouds coat the coniferous forest and the lake, the grey ribbons of roads.

If Tyler could draw this, he would pull a sketchbook out of his pocket and would start doodling right now — but there’s no sketchbook and no talent, and no skills. So he just contemplates the beauty of nature. It looks much better when he doesn’t have to drag his body across the desert and adapt to a debilitating heat.

 

**Epilogue**

Jenna keeps sending him emails, Josh’s Mom keeps calling them, the bits and pieces collect into a full and not-so-tragic image. The Fortune grants them two weeks of a normal life: home-work-home-dates-home-work-home, and Tyler gazes at the calendar on the wall with the purpose of finally picking the date for the wedding.

Something stops him each time he’s about to take a pen and put an X.

He’s not getting nosebleeds or migraines or inauspicious signals from Space, and Blurry’s red eyes aren’t travelling from real life to Tyler’s dreams. Here’s a way to be happy, here’s the answer, and VESSEL is more of a protection now, not more of the enemy.

“We’re moving forward,” Josh affirms, his neon-yellow hair is as bright as the highlighter on the paper.

Josh always comes up with different colors when something in his life changes — and winning the war with Blurry might definitely be considered as a reason.

“Yes, we are,” Tyler nods resignedly.

They’re just getting into a rut. Neither of them complains.

But one day the illusion withers like a flower, in the most non-aesthetic way.

Because Tyler wakes up.

Tyler _literally_ wakes up.

He wakes up lying on the mattress that isn’t his, dressed in the clothes that feel too baggy, with the thoughts that seem to be a little twisted in the way they shouldn’t actually be twisted.

He sits up, raddled and disoriented, bare feet touch chilly floor under his too hard bed, covered with oilcloth. Tyler looks around his private cell, just the size of it makes him feel claustrophobic.

“Damn, no,” he rushes to the exit, knocking and slapping, kicking and pushing, hyperventilating and spilling his wrath for no one.

His sleeves are torn and rolled up, tattooed arms mottled with the needle punctures — how many chemicals has he gotten into his system?

Where is Josh?

Here’s the voice murmuring inside Tyler’s head, guiding him back into the story — Josh had lost too much blood _that_ night — _of course_ , there was a giant red puddle, his arteries had definitely been ruptured, and not even Tyler’s healing abilities could help him. That’s what Tyler tells to himself — but he didn’t even try to stop the bleeding.

Tyler’s hands and neck are black, because the agents were right, and Josh is dead, fertilizing the ground along with the other Contactees.

Tyler is his own Blurryface, a schizophrenic-alien, a freaky kid with a mutant brain.  

“Damn,” Tyler growls, on the brink of slipping into a gulf of entrancement. His left wrist is swathed in dirty bandages from the last time he tried to hit the vein with a rusty piece of iron but couldn’t deal with the tendon.

Tyler got punished, a bloody pulp on the floor — why did his imagination trick him the way he was sure there were his _friends?_

“They killed him,” Tyler rips his hair out of the follicles, not for the first time — his fingertips skim over the ugly bald spots, and Josh is dead because of him, and Tyler is losing the wrestling with a destiny like this —

Tyler’s wrist splits from the blow he strikes, metal door is painted with old and fresh crimson traceries. This leaves him howling and clutching his injured hand, some fingernails missed; he wants to scream until his lungs explode, until the chaos in his head stops, and there’s no other way to fix it.

He has to be tranquil or Merrick will pounce on him again — Tyler can’t see the revolting hematomas under his red, ripped in various places coverall, but they are here. His self-repairing powers are blocked, he’s stuffed up with too many serums, all at once — it has given him a poisoning a while ago, a thin layer of his bloody puke congealed on the breast pockets.

If everything had seemed virtual before, then here’s the heinous realism.

Next time Tyler is going to make a vertical cut.

He’s about to begin to choke on his thoughts and on his vomit again, because he’s never been capable of controlling both of these things, and he’s sobbing. His body seizures so intensively he wishes the agents could come and sedate him. When he’s sleeping, he’s dreaming of the sweetest things — of the world where Josh is alive and where Jenna is one of VESSEL agents, a really good one, where she will definitely save him from this Hell.

Tyler goes limp in the corner, will-less, unable to bear this loathsome room with no windows and with no Josh in it.

The door is wide open now, and Tyler habitually outstretches his hand because all they need from him is his _marvelous_ blood. They’re trying to product something from it, to sell it to the military.

“Open your eyes.”

Tyler screws his eyes shut.

“I’m gonna slap you if you don’t open your eyes right now.”

He’s so aghast he doesn’t let himself perceive the voice.

“Tyler, it’s me.”

And Tyler begins to yell.

Because he can’t let the hallucination get him this bad —

A swat across his cheekbone forces him to fall silent. It always works, honestly, because less resistance means less damage in the process of beating.

“I d-don’t want it t-to start again,” Tyler begs; he’s not high on drugs and injections, but the World from His Head is just taunting him now.

“What don’t you want to start again?”

“You’re dead.”

“Fu-u-ck,” a hand near his hairline, tears rolling down his temples and into his ears because he’s lying flat on his back. And, before Tyler can figure out what’s happening, strong hands pull at the front of his clothes, jerking him upwards without warning. He hiccups. “Gonna hurl?”

Tyler’s inflamed eyelids feel hot.

“I can go get you a bucket.”

Tyler is inarticulate, escaping from his cascade nightmare.

“Sh, don’t cry, Tyler, don’t cry.”

Tyler still can’t open his puffy eyes, swallowing against the thistle thorns in his throat. And his Josh is right here, and there is no cell, no uniforms, no VESSEL and no Merrick.

Josh is scared, combing Tyler’s hair, fluffy and shiny, hugging Tyler’s body — clean and intact. His tears are still trickling down his cheeks, snot dribbles from the tip of his nose as he pulls Josh’s t-shirt up and touches his lower stomach, the pads of his fingers find the scarred area with the pinpoint accuracy.

“G-god, this is my life,” the nightmare is still looming behind Tyler’s back as Josh kisses his moist lips, then wiping Tyler’s face with the hem of his own tank top.

“Real, it’s all real,” Josh is just a broken record with one line, rocking Tyler back and forth with their heartbeats colliding between their chests.

“You survived,” Tyler finally opens his eyes. Josh’s face is so close Tyler can see the freckles on the bridge of his nose even in the dark. “I had a dire dream.”

“I survived,” Josh agrees. “ _We_ survived. And I’m sorry I had to slap you again, because I didn’t know how to wake you up-”

“And Jenna w-works for VESSEL? In my dream she wasn’t-”

“She is, Ty, she is,” Josh breathes, and Tyler breathes along with him. “She’s a badass agent, and Merrick is a bully, and you’re an alien, and Blurry is dead.”

Tyler tears himself apart between the desires of keeping to weep on Josh’s shoulder like a baby and going back to sleep.

But the glowing of his tattoos diverts him.

The daylight breaks into the bedroom window — it’s still the middle of the night, but the white radiance behind the glass almost sets the curtains aflame.

“What? What is this?” Josh rears his head, the color of the X behind his ear matches his hair.

It’s a Message, it runs over the ornaments on Tyler’s body like electricity, black replaced with iridescent golden. 

“They’re saying goodbye to Blurry,” Tyler assumes.

Speechless, they cowardly step towards the window and withdraw the curtain back to look outside — the sky is bright, but not in a painful way — myriads of stars are glistering and scintillating, sending long silvery strings down to the ground. It’s like a newfound, newborn galaxy that makes appearance in this timeline, a piece of miracle that shatters into the crystals and scatters across the welkin. Their neighbors are definitely shaken awake by the illumination, the whole living area is swimming in the aureole of virgin-white sparkles.

It’s gonna be in the newspapers tomorrow.

And Tyler feels safe.

“Are we free now?” Josh’s hand covers Tyler’s, fingers intertwined.

“Maybe for a while?” Tyler sniffles once again, mesmerized by the show the night presents.

He’s never seen a sky like this.

 

***

“You’re such a power bottom,” Josh exhales, rolling off Tyler and slipping under the blanket. “Happy Birthday.”

“It’s too late,” Tyler pouts.

“Better later than never.”

Josh keeps wishing him Happy Birthday since he discovered the estimated date of Tyler’s _birth_ — thanks Jenna — but he was already one week late.

“But it’s almost Christmas,” Tyler tries, but Josh is non-committal.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he points out.

“Oh, quit teasing me,” Tyler hunches over the edge of the bed to grab his sweatpants from the carpet and pull them on with no underwear. “I’m gonna shower.”

“That’s cool, I can go with you,” Josh sits up, sweat glints on his muscular torso.

Josh is only covered with the bedsheet below the waist. The sight of his abs makes Tyler swallow anxiously.

“Huh, and we’ll be late for your family dinner.”

“Right,” Josh nods with a cackle. “Go first then.”

Josh’s got a really soft spot for shower sex. Tyler smiles as he thinks of it, entering the bathroom.

He finds himself soaring in some kind of trance when he shoves his hand in the recess behind the cupboard — Josh wouldn’t approve it if he knew about it — and snatches a compact black pack, sealed until this day. Tyler rips it open, giving up to the memories as he trifles with the red knit beanie in his hands — it has brownish spots of blood caked on the back, and it mostly smells like medical supplies.

Tyler thinks twice before taking it on, pulling it down to his eyebrows and checking his reflection in the cupboard mirror — he still looks like himself, he’s not that exhausted though the navy-blue circles under his eyes will probably never go away.

“No,” Tyler whispers as he notices a black malformed spot on the back of his hand. “It’s not me.”

It’s just his ghosts and demons.

He plucks the beanie off and throws it into the sink — he shouldn’t have stolen it, it belongs to evil, he’s going to tell Josh about it and burn it down in the fireplace in his parents’ house tonight.

_This is not him._

Tyler is daydreaming, he’s greeting his reflection again — he’s got red eyes. Blink. Brown. Blink. Red again. Blink, keep the eyes closed for a minute, open — permanently brown. The inky stain near the knuckles of his hand is gone as well.

Tyler breathes out through his mouth, shuffling to the shower to run the cold water. Mirrors are lying sometimes.

It’s fun to play pretend, but he’s taking this under his control.

 _This_ war is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "puddincup on Chapter 15 Thu 14 Jul 2016 09:41PM EDT  
> On some x-files shit, the driver should be either a clone of mark or a shapeshifter..."
> 
> man, if you read this, then i'd like to let you know- your comment on poisoned food clued me what to do next and literally gave me the idea of the sequel.  
> \---  
> SPECIAL thanks to PantaloonWarrior- your comments are the best reward for the work i'm doing; this means a lot, thank you so much for amping up my motivation all the way, here and on tumblr :)  
> \---  
> also, thanks everyone for reading/commenting/leaving kudos, you guys are just great.  
> |-/  
> \---  
> UPD: i'm writing [ part 3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10449744/chapters/23067297)


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